Tuxedo Capers
by Triskell
Summary: CATS: A story of Quaxo's kittenhood, loosely based on events depicted in "Between Brothers".


Author: Triskell  
Summary: Quaxo's kittenhood (the story is a thousand times better than the summary ;D)   
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: The Jellicle Cats belong to TSE, ALW & RUG. The story is mine, no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
AN: This is a story of the magical cat's kitten years. It ties in roughly with "Flirting with the Past" and "Between Brothers" (Cassie is © Triskell, 2000), though it is essentially a stand-alone piece.  
  
Warning: The author will not be held responsible for any drooling and/or major cuteness attacks that might occur while reading this. ;D

* * *

Dedicated to **Sachmet** who loved Quaxo's speech in "Between Brothers" and wanted to read more of it.   
And to **Yuffie**, just because ;D.

  
** The Tuxedo Capers **  
© Triskell, Sept/Oct/Nov 2001; May/June/Sept 2002  


* * *

Life was good - or so the cat lounging on the snow bedecked windowsill of a small, neatly kept cottage thought.  
  
He rolled onto his back, balancing precariously, his black coat glistening with the powdery white, wet fluff. As soon as the elderly human he had adopted was in sight, he began purring and the man looked up, old eyes shining with amusement.  
  
"Ah, charmin' the ladies again, eh, kitty? A youn' one like yerself shouldna be out in sech a weather as this. Come now, there ya go, buddy…"  
  
A rough hand took him gently off the sill, another dusting the snow off the black fur and tickling the white chest until the little cat began to purr.  
  
Though he had celebrated his first birthday only two months before, the black tom was a fairly quiet companion, studiously perusing his human's books whenever the man wasn't paying attention.  
  
Tugger and Munkustrap, the brothers he had grown up with, had decided he needed his very own home in town and so he had found himself in front of this particular cottage's doorstep in mid-August, waiting for his future pet to arrive.  
  
It was, or so the young tom had discovered, quite useful to have someone feeding him - especially since he got treats that were not to be found at the junkyard where he had spent his life so far. Salmon and Strasbourg Pie being his favourites.  
  
Lazily stretching on his human's lap, the cat focused on the twilight just visible behind the white curtains, his eyes half-closed and his purr softly rumbling in the back of his throat.  
  
The evening light cast shadows upon the old junkyard, fitting the time of year. It was no longer summer and the bloody hue still reminded each cat of the two queens who had left the tribe not too long ago.  
  
One to pursue a life of adventure and glamour, the other taken from them by death. They had each had a son; both were a few months of age now and shared a dwelling since their father, Old Deuteronomy, was too busy with his human to take care of them and most of the other cats simply didn't have room to spare.  
  
There had been three recent additions to the tribe though, connected to the death of one of the queens - three small kittens, two of which had been temporarily placed with Ghenghis and Cassandra, two Siamese who lived in the posh neighbourhood of Victoria Grove.  
  
The third, since he began to whimper the moment he was separated from the recently orphaned toms who had rescued him from a pack of pollicles, was handed over to their care. A few of the older queens were, naturally, less than content with this arrangement - unfortunately none of them had any better ideas.  
  
Even if the lack of space hadn't existed it was quite clear that the kitten was by no means willing to give up on his two new companions who had named him Quaxo. Their family life was, apart from the daily squabbles between the brothers, quite harmonious - it didn't last that long though for as they grew, the elder toms went their own ways and had to coordinate their parental efforts with a little more difficulty.  
  
Stumbling along almost blindly, his dark eyes fixed on the sun with a wondering look, the small black kitten approached the tall, lean figure of a tom sporting a fluffy golden mane. He was talking quietly to two queens, both dark and mysterious, their silhouettes half blending into the shadows.  
  
The last rays of sunlight caught in the golden mane and made the tom a handsome sight, a sentiment that was easily read into the gestures and smiles of his two companions. Engrossed with his story, he failed to notice the little shape tottering up to him.  
  
The kitten was very young still, barely able to walk properly and his coat made him hard to notice in the dusk, save for the few white patches in his fur. It was the pale face looking up intently at its goal that led the queens to notice him though their smiles only deepened a little as they waited for him to approach.  
  
"Go sl-eep-ing?" a small voice intoned quietly. Turning around and mumbling something under his breath, the young tom sighed before excusing himself as gallantly as he could from the queens.  
  
He spared a glance for the fur ball at his paws and then grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and sauntered off, closing his ears to the giggles and the whispered 'Mumma Rummy' he knew could be heard behind his back.  
  
It didn't take too long for him to carry the kitten back to his dwelling, which he had acquired recently, when his elder brother had told him to move out. It was strange living on his own - stranger still to live with a kit. He should have gotten someone to kittensit when he decided to go for a walk. 'But it was just a short walk!' the carefree part of his mind protested. Damn the fur ball for waking up.  
  
"There, you did it again!" he scolded, depositing his small charge in the nest of blankets on the far side of the place. Wide dark eyes looked up innocently and uncomprehendingly at the elder tom who stared accusingly back down, "Don't look at me like that!"  
  
"Do-n't? Why?"  
  
Sighing in exasperation 'Mumma Rummy'- as the tom had been called ever since the fur ball had conveniently mumbled that name in everyone's hearing - draped a blanket across the little thing wearily. He lay down and curled up around it with an air of despotic suffering.  
  
"Ru-mm-y!" the kitten intoned quietly, snuggling closer to the elder tom, until his body was almost completely covered by the fluffy mane. The fur tickled the small nose lightly, but apart from the occasional sneeze evoked by a long strand trailing right under his nose it was the most comfortable place to be. Perfectly warm, sheltered and safe. Home.  
  
"Sleep now, Quax…" the elder tom mumbled, another sigh escaping him as he looked down at the silhouetted form of the little cat. It was so hard to be mad at the fur ball, for all it seemed out to cut short all his fun.  
  
The queens were all laughing at him because the kitten hung about him like a life-line, trailing after him and demanding attention in the most awful way imaginable - with a quiet voice and those dark innocent eyes fixed steadily on him. He was powerless to resist. And he hated it.  
  
The fur ball stirred, two tiny paws flailing in the air suddenly, one black and one white. The elder tom looked about, making sure no one saw him as he nuzzled the kitten's form lightly, even cooing a little to calm him.  
  
Tugging the blanket up to cover the small body completely, he let his head rest carefully on the kitten's flank, smiling despite himself at the contented purr emanating from his charge.  
  
"Munku?" the lean tom's tone held a tinge of fury when he finally found his brother, lying calmly in front of the old oven where the Gumbie Cat lived when she wasn't dealing with the critters at her humans' house.  
  
Receiving no response, Tugger advanced, his eyes beginning to glow dangerously. He had spent the better part of the morning waiting since it was the tabby's turn to kittensit. Pressing the small cat in his arms a little too close for comfort, he received a slap from a white paw, flailing out unconsciously, as its owner was still fast asleep.  
  
"Tugger! Goodness, what are you doing about at this time?" The Gumbie actually seemed surprised to see him. As if he were sleeping in all the time!  
  
"Looking for Munku, Jenny. He promised to kittensit."  
  
Before Tugger could elaborate on the burden that the small fur ball was and how hard it was to fit his schedule around the needs a kitten had, his companion motioned him closer and took his charge from his arms with a small sigh.  
  
"I'll take care of him. When will you be back?"  
  
"It's Munku's job! He promised!"  
  
"Your brother, my dear Tugger, has been up all night looking for Asparagus senior. And he had a run in with a bulldog on the way. Luckily Skimble was there in time to get rid of that pollicle before any harm was done."  
  
"Ah…" the lanky tom couldn't think of something better to say. A little voice in the back of his head told him he should have known that Munkustrap wouldn't forget him or his promise.  
  
"What about Asparagus?" he finally managed.  
  
"No need to worry. Jelly found him in the back alleys round the Globe Theatre this morning. Bustopher apparently heard he was there from one of his friends at some club or other."  
  
Somehow he felt that it would have been his job to help looking. But then again, he had been taking care of a kitten. And he wasn't responsible for the tribe's elders - after all, that theatre cat had totally lost his wits already - he really shouldn't be allowed out of the house.  
  
"Now, Tugger, when will you be back? I need to train some mice this afternoon."  
  
"Ah, sure. Will one o'clock suit you?" He smiled engagingly, uncovering his most gentletomly behaviour.  
  
"Yes, that will do. And mind you're not late!"  
  
"Of course not." He almost ran. That look was enough to give even Munku the creeps. Jenny was as strict and demanding as she was kind and sweet. And she obviously was displeased with his lack of interest and concern for his brother's state of health. But then again, she always got so riled up about what he did, it really didn't matter.  
  
"Ru-mm-y?"  
  
"Good morning, Quaxo, me lad."  
  
The black kitten purred when the marmalade coloured tom scratched his ears. He liked the warm voice and that rolling sound in the elder cat's voice.  
  
"Ah, has he woken up already? Good. Skimble, dear, do tell him a story, I'm busy just now."  
  
"Of course, Jenny, of course. Now laddie, what d'ya wanna hear? A fairy tale?"  
  
"Yes!" the kitten beamed, purring even louder as he was drawn into Skimble's lap. With such an enthusiastic audience, the tom was engaged in a wild narrative within minutes, and when Jenny looked in on them a little later, she found them both very absorbed in the fate of 'Cinderella'.  
  
"I swear if I get my paws on him!"  
  
"Jenny, really, you needn't worry. I can take care of Quaxo. I'm quite rested and I should have had him this morning already."  
  
"You, my dear, are not at all fit enough to take on that kitten!"  
  
"Quaxo's very quiet, he'll be no trouble, Jenny."  
  
"It's a matter of principle. I told Tugger to be here by one o'clock. It's precisely two past one, and he hasn't shown up. I can't tolerate unpunctuality!"  
  
"He'll be here." Munkustrap didn't quite believe his own words, but it would have been unfair to blame his brother for being late, he obviously just tried to make the most of what little time he had on his own. And he had waited for almost two hours before bringing Quaxo to Jenny's place as it was.  
  
"Tr-ap-py?"  
  
"Quaxo, hey, come here little one!"  
  
The kitten was all too happy to oblige, curling up to anyone warm and cosy was his top priority after all. He slept a lot and he didn't like being cold. Skimble had been very nice, but he had left a while earlier, and Jenny couldn't be bothered to curl up around the small fur ball. Luckily for him, there was a soft rug at the back of her dwelling. Still, nothing beat the closeness of another cat.  
  
"There Jenny, I said he was no trouble. He'll be sleeping in a moment anyway. I'll just wait for Tugger here, and then he'll take Quaxo home and put him to bed. No reason to get angry."  
  
"You are being entirely too lenient on that good-for-nothing tom!"  
  
Munkustrap would have retorted something, but manners and an instinct for survival got the better of him. Never to contradict Jenny was one of the rules if you wanted to make it out unscathed - particularly when she was in a bad mood. He was already pitying the mice she would teach that afternoon.  
  
"You know what? I'll ask Adme to kittensit with me. He can take over if I get tired."  
  
"Admetus? Oh, well, if you think. I'll drop you and Quaxo off at George's place on my way to work then."  
  
"That's very kind of you."  
  
The Gumbie only snorted, grabbing the kitten by the scruff of his neck and setting off, the grey tabby following behind. He knew it would have been too much to ask to let him go on his own. She had fussed over him far more than was necessary and would have declared him seriously injured if Skimble hadn't tactfully told her she was overreacting.  
  
As it turned out, George had been out himself and returned just in time to greet them with a smile. His nephew was trotting along behind him, face lighting up the moment he saw Munkustrap.  
  
"Dearest Jenny, what brings you to my humble dwelling? Is there anything I can do for you?"  
  
Setting the kitten, who was still mewling and flailing his paws in a dreamy stupor, onto the ground carefully, she nodded briskly, "I just brought these two along - Munku said Admetus would help him kittensit. He's had a long and bad night, and I was hoping he wouldn't overdo it with Quaxo."  
  
"No need to worry, I'll keep an eye on the three of them. And I've got enough things at home for a good dinner for all of us."  
  
The mention of kittens being well-fed had an amazing effect on the Gumbie's mood. She brightened up at once, smiled and patted the grey tabby on the head.  
  
"Have a good day then, my dears. And Munku - when Tugger comes back, tell him I want to see him."  
  
"Yes, of course."  
  
Jenny waved at them as she left, favouring George with a dazzling smile that he returned with obvious amusement.  
  
"Well kits, now that the lady's gone I guess I'd better scrape together a few remains for our dinner. How's fish and pork pie sound?"  
  
"Great!"  
  
"Right. You stay here, keep out of mischief, and I'll be back in a flash."  
  
Two young heads nodded, the third drooping onto Munkustrap's front paws that had closed around the curled-up kitten. As soon as George was out of earshot, a wide grin appeared on Admetus' face.  
  
"I take it Jenny's furious with Tugger - again?"  
  
"He was meant to be back by one o'clock. It's not that bad really, I was supposed to kittensit anyway. I told Jenny to wake me up, but she was too worried about my health," he sighed, "you know her."  
  
"Oh yes. So what is the fur ball up to that you can't handle on your own in your feeble state?"  
  
"Well," the tabby glanced at his charge, then back at Admetus with a horror-struck look, "he will sleep. I don't know how to take so much _activity_. It's just keeping me on the edge!"  
  
"Definitely! I can see the strain of watching him show on your face already!"  
  
"Oh my, is it that obvious?"  
  
Looking at each other, they couldn't remain serious for a moment longer and burst out laughing. The sound woke Quaxo up again, not unpleasantly though. He recognised that loud wobbly tone as the sort of tune that said someone was happy. And happy was good.  
  
"Ru-mm-y?" he queried sleepily, waving his tiny paw around until it struck a nose. Heavy lids parted for a moment to make out a grey blur and he intoned the name most likely to fit such a cat, "Tra-pp-y!"  
  
"Yes, it's me, Quaxo. No need to worry. Rummy," Admetus chuckled and Munkustrap grinned openly, "Rummy'll be back very soon."  
  
"Who's that?" A small black paw reached out to tap the tabby's friend on the forehead.  
  
"I'm Admetus, Quaxo. We haven't quite met yet. You were always asleep."  
  
"Sl-ee-py?"  
  
"Yes, you were sleeping."  
  
Curiosity getting the better of him, the kitten forced his eyes open a little wider to focus on the form sitting beside Trappy. It turned out to be a whitish sort of blur with reddish brown stripes and spots. He couldn't discern much more, he was too sleepy. After all, he had listened very carefully to the wonderful story Skimble told, and now he was very tired.  
  
"A-d-e?"  
  
"Admetus."  
  
"Ade."  
  
"Admetus."  
  
"Ade." This time the small voice was very resolute. Resigning himself to the inevitable, the tom smiled and nodded as the white tip of the kitten's black tail brushed across his nose.  
  
"At least he doesn't call you Rummy or Trappy," Munkustrap whispered into his friend's ear as Quaxo settled down again, wrapped around his front paws, purring contentedly.  
  
Tugger was by no means happy about the lecture he received from Jenny, but he simply drowned her out. The fur ball had been taken care of, fed and put to bed. That he had been forced to ask Jelly where he was, had been a little - uncomfortable - though she had volunteered the information after scolding him for not knowing.  
  
George had bundled up the three young cats at his place, and Quaxo had been quite content lying in a heap of blankets, sharing Admetus' and Munkustrap's body heat. He hadn't even woken up when Tugger carried him home. The small thing had been well and truly tired. All the better for him. It meant he'd get to sleep in the next day.  
  
It were always the nicest mornings one couldn't enjoy. The weather wasn't particularly good yet, the sky overcast, but it promised to be dry and not too cold, so a walk around the 'yard, maybe a chat with a pretty queen or two, would be quite enjoyable. If he had been given the opportunity to actually spend some time alone…  
  
"Ru-mm-y?"  
  
Groaning, the lanky tom turned around, his eyes fixing on the kitten on the ground. The fur ball was still small for his age, even though there were as yet no other young ones to compare him with in terms of height.  
  
"It's Tugger, how often do I need to tell you?"  
  
Dark brown eyes gazed up at the elder cat as the white face shifted to the side. Quaxo knew exactly that the other tom had a soft spot for a pleading expression and a cocked head. He had seen the red queen Tugger liked so much use that look. It always worked.  
  
"What do you want, kit?"  
  
The tone was much warmer now, and the haughty expression had softened considerably. The kitten fought hard to contain a pleased smile.  
  
"Trap-py wa-nts you."  
  
"What the hell for?"  
  
"Swea-ri-ng is bad," Quaxo reminded him sternly. He was not yet able to pronounce longer words, but was definitely capable of using them. The lanky tom's face fell, and he growled lightly at the back of his throat.  
  
"You're not my mum, kit."  
  
"Trap-py wa-nts you."  
  
A little white paw was held out towards Tugger, and he automatically reached for it, checking at the same time that no one was around to see him walk about with a kitten like this. He was a cool cat, suave and easy-going. Not a kittensitter, not a 'Mumma Rummy'.  
  
"Let's just go and find him," Tugger's usually steady voice sounded a little rough. The simple, unfailing trust Quaxo had in him was precious to him in a way - and he couldn't help but want to never let the little thing down.  
  
"Ah, Quaxo, I see you've found him." The grey tabby was in a suspiciously good mood. Tugger supposed that was mainly due to the fact he was still holding the little fur ball's paw tightly in his own. Just to make sure the kitten wouldn't run off. They were pretty close to the 'yard's main gate, and there were quite a few cars on the streets - you really couldn't be too careful.  
  
He shook his head with a soft growl the moment he realized what he'd been contemplating a moment ago. He needed a break from 'family life' and fast at that. He was beginning to think like his brother - Heaviside beware!  
  
"What's up?" he let go of Quaxo's paw and sat down, not quite able to feel offended when the kitten cuddled up to his side and began purring.  
  
"Deuteronomy asked me to bring Quaxo round this afternoon. He would like to introduce him to the newest additions to the tribe."  
  
"Why?" Despite knowing he shouldn't feel concerned as long as the fur ball wasn't hanging about him, he was a little apprehensive. His father seldom saw the kitten, and each time he did he had an odd look on his face.  
  
"Those _newcomers_ - who the hell are they?"  
  
"I honestly don't know. He wouldn't say."  
  
"Will you be there?" Tugger cursed himself for sounding anxious.  
  
"Of course! I haven't met those cats yet myself! I promise to keep my eyes on Quaxo, alright?"  
  
The lanky tom just nodded, growling lightly. He hated that smug, satisfied look on Munkustrap's face. Not that he should wonder at his brother's seeing through his little game. Where the kitten was concerned, he was a big softie. And he despised himself for it.  
  
"You'll feed him?"  
  
"Certainly, Tugger. And I'll put him to bed if you like. I'm free tonight, so you can have fun."  
  
"Ah, sure." Grumbling silently when he saw the tabby's warm smile, he added, "Thanks."  
  
"You're very welcome, Tug."  
  
Holding Quaxo still while he got up, he lifted the dozing fur ball off the ground and handed him over to Munkustrap carefully. A soft meowing came from the kitten, and he wriggled a little in the elder tom's arms, until he felt comfortable against the grey chest fur - close enough to hear the steady heartbeat.  
  
"Good day, Munkustrap - ah and there is little Quaxo!"  
  
The kitten's ears perked up at the mention of his name spoken in a deep, rumbling voice he didn't hear very often. Opening his eyes, he saw the great blurry spot that his fine nose identified as the cat Rummy and Trappy called 'Father'.  
  
Moments later, a shaggy paw was scratching the white tipped ears, and a deep purr resounded in Quaxo's throat. He was very comfortable and on the verge of sleep when he felt something odd. Well, it wasn't really that strange a feeling, he had had it before. Mainly when he was with Rummy. It was what the elder cats referred to as 'home' and 'belonging'.  
  
Munkustrap felt the kitten stir slightly in his arms and patted the black head reassuringly. Deuteronomy chose that moment to step aside, ushering two young cats forward. The 'newcomers' were quite obviously related - their fur colourings almost a perfect match if not for the different markings on their faces. The tabby assumed they were a little younger than himself, though they carried themselves perfectly and had an air of knowledge beyond their years around them.  
  
"Son, these are our newest additions, the offspring of very old friends of mine."  
  
"Pleased to meet you," Munkustrap nodded courtly, still holding the kitten close to him. His arms tightened when he felt Quaxo trying to get out of his embrace and onto the ground. Until he knew just who these two cats where, his little charge was going nowhere.  
  
"I am Tantomile," the female spoke up as she stepped forward. On closer inspection, the tabby noticed that her face was more finely chiselled than the other's, with a straight-forward mien.  
  
"This is my twin, Coricopat," she indicated the tom who stood beside her, radiating what Munkustrap would have defined as 'ill humour', with one swift movement of her paw.  
  
The tabby would have spoken to introduce himself, but Deuteronomy obviously had other ideas. Putting his paw on his son's shoulder, he said, "I need to discuss something with you in private. Leave the kitten with Tantomile and Coricopat, he'll be quite safe. It won't take long."  
  
"Of course." Automatically acquiescing, he set the little fur ball on the ground, pleased to see that there were only minimal traces of sleep left in the dark eyes. As long as he was awake, he wouldn't be following any strange cats. Still, Munkustrap was apprehensive and cast a few glances over his shoulder as his father led him further into the small orchard the vicar had cultivated.  
  
Quaxo looked closely at the two strange cats, smiling. For some reason he knew he need not be afraid of them. They looked very similar to him though. He didn't know who was who, just that one looked more brooding than the other. They came closer and seated themselves beside him, staring back at his small form.  
  
"I'm Tantomile," one of the twins said finally as if to break the silence, nudging her companion, "this is Coricopat."  
  
The kitten cocked his head and answered with the first thing that came to his mind, a very obvious statement of course, but it did puzzle him exceedingly to see anyone in such a sombre mood. He didn't know yet that the elder cats would always try to seem gay and happy when they were around kittens.  
  
"You do-n't sm-il-e."  
  
"We aren't easily amused," Coricopat replied, his frown deepening some more.  
  
"Why?"  
  
The tom sighed, turning his eyes heavenwards, whispering to his sister, "I hate kittens!"  
  
"You'll get used to him. And then, he won't be that small forever. Now, why don't you answer him?" Tantomile whispered back, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.  
  
Thumping the young queen's backside unceremoniously with his tail, the male twin looked at the kitten sternly, "We just aren't."  
  
"Oh. ... Why?"  
  
Tantomile eventually gave in to the chuckle she had held back when her brother launched himself into what she recognised as the only way out of the dilemma of having to answer an inquisitive little thing's questions - a game of tag. This consisted of the fur ball pouncing upon him, since actual running was out of the question for someone as small as Quaxo.  
  
"Why did you want me to bring Quaxo around, father?"  
  
"That is just what I would like to talk to you about."  
  
"I'm listening." For all the world, Munkustrap looked like the picture of serenity. But he was flexing the muscles in his upper arms slightly, as he did when he was nervous. Deuteronomy smiled - the tabby was as predictable as Tugger in his own way.  
  
"There is something about Quaxo - a sort of power," seeing the frown on his son's face, he continued hastily, "it's nothing bad, really. Just that I have the feeling that he is, well, special."  
  
"I know he is. Quaxo is very dear to Tugger and me."  
  
"That is why I would like the two of you to know that he might need specific teaching in a few months. I want you to be prepared in case something unforeseen happens."  
  
"Like what?" Munkustrap's voice was silky, smooth, and deadly cold.  
  
"That depends. I'm not clear as to what his powers entail yet. It could range from mere empathy to telepathy to moving objects with his mind and even to burning things with a mere thought."  
  
The tabby remained silent, but his features mirrored the shocked confusion that had taken hold of his brain. This couldn't be! Not Quaxo!  
  
"It doesn't mean the little one is dangerous, just a little unpredictable when he discovers his powers. But he won't be alone. That is why I asked you to bring him today. Tantomile and Coricopat are telepaths. Their mother was magical and, being twins, they inherited a very strong bond. It is outwardly apparent in their colouring as you might have noticed."  
  
"So they are here to…train Quaxo?"  
  
"Well, no. Just to assist him really. In fact, he will have to teach himself. But that is something we will settle when the time comes. And the two kits didn't come here because of Quaxo - their father died a few months ago and recently their mother joined him in the Heaviside Layer."  
  
"They are orphans?"  
  
"Yes. I thought the least I could do was offer them to stay with us. They are very young still, and I don't think they would last for very long with a human family. The twins are known to be a little queer, or so their parents have communicated to me. They can sit quietly for hours, unmoving, merely observing and having a conversation in their heads. It freaks humans out."  
  
"I see."  
  
"Is there anything else you would like to know, Munkustrap?"  
  
Well, of course there was. In fact, the tabby had a lot of questions. What he was supposed to do with the kitten, for one. How he was to treat him. If he should tell him at all that his life might change drastically from one moment to the other. But the only thing he managed to say was,  
"You expect me to tell Tug, right?"  
  
"I would appreciate it. Tugger responds to you much better than he does to me."  
  
As if that were news. Munkustrap shook his head a little, feeling no longer nervous, but tired and a bit exasperated. It always came down to the fact that his father just couldn't find a level where interaction with the young tom was more than merely civil. It seemed as if some wounds never healed.  
  
Deuteronomy's refusal to mention Tugger's mother was one of those. The tabby knew his brother didn't really want to talk about the queen, but it would have helped if his father had at least made an effort to explain a few things; why she left her kitten, the junkyard, her life with the tribe.  
  
"I'll tell Tug, don't worry. Can I take Quaxo home now?"  
  
"Of course! I would ask you not to talk to him about this conversation."  
  
"And when shall I tell him that he is _special_, as you put it?"  
  
"When the time comes."  
  
Seeing the enigmatic look Deuteronomy wore that always told him that there was no way he could get more information out of the old tom, Munkustrap nodded his head in agreement and turned on his heel fairly abruptly. He forewent the farewell to his father, too annoyed at having still more responsibility planted on his shoulders.  
  
The kitten was, as he was soon able to observe, perfectly content. He seemed to have taken to Coricopat around whose paws he had curled. The white face was serene and the little chest was rising ever so gently with the steady heartbeats. If the tabby hadn't just been told that the poor thing would, in all probability, not have a normal, uneventful life, he might have smiled.  
  
"Do you so abhor anything that is different?"  
  
Tantomile stood beside him, and he almost jumped. Regaining his composure, he shook his head, "I don't know what you mean."  
  
"Quaxo might well be a magical cat. It is true that he will stand out. Does that really change who he is? Does it change what you feel for him?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Then why do you worry?"  
  
"It is hard to be singled out. It won't be easy for him. He is too small for a kitten of his age, too thin and too sedate as it is. This will make it still harder for him."  
  
"As long as he is supported by those who love him unquestioningly, he will not be alone."  
  
Munkustrap stared at the young queen. She met his gaze evenly, even smiling a little. It was quite obvious she had shocked him with her insights. That was only natural. She just _knew_ she was right and from his look she had hit her mark. For most cats, such knowledge was disconcerting.  
  
"Will you get that kitten off my paws already?" Coricopat's voice was a drawling hiss. He was less than pleased to have been labelled as 'kitten-proof'. He hated those fur balls.  
  
"No need to worry. You'll see as little of Quaxo as possible." With those icy, calm words, the tabby scooped the sleeping kitten into his arms and stalked off, not even looking back.  
  
"That wasn't polite, Cori."  
  
"You weren't the one forced to play with the kit!"  
  
"He saw through you and you detest that."  
  
"He _likes_ me!" The young tom looked horrified and offended at the same time, the frown still firmly in place on his features.  
  
"Oh Heaviside, be a bit more accommodating! We'll be living with these cats. There's no need to anger the whole tribe. You know that Munkustrap is going to be Deuteronomy's right hand soon enough."  
  
"He will?"  
  
"If you had actually listened to the voices in your head instead of grumbling to yourself, I'm sure you'd know."  
  
Coricopat sighed as his sister began to detail all the things she had felt and seen with her inner eye. He hated not being privy to something that had passed. Especially when it had been right before his very nose, and he had missed it because he hadn't paid proper attention. Which was hard with a kitten swiping, laughing and mumbling almost incoherent words right beside him.  
  
"WHAT? Care to repeat that, Munku?"  
  
Tugger was fuming, no, actually he was livid with rage. He had spent a very nice, relaxing day, only to find his brother at his place on returning in the early evening, telling him there were some news. And what he had been told wasn't to his liking at all. Suddenly the kitten sleeping soundly in his nest of blankets was to possess unidentified _powers_?  
  
"He's a kit! Barely big enough to stand on his own paws! And father starts meddling in his life already! Who does he think he is?"  
  
"Keep your voice down, Tug! I don't like the implications either, but Deuteronomy assured me that Quaxo was in no danger and that both he and the twins would be there when anything happened."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"How am I supposed to know? They couldn't tell me either! Just don't ask Tug, kay?"  
  
"Who are these twins anyway?"  
  
"Father knew their parents. He says they are trustworthy."  
  
"Oh lovely, and that means we trust them? This is about Quaxo!"  
  
"I feel they are good cats. A little rough and decidedly unused to being polite and mixing with others, but definitely no danger. That's all I can say now."  
  
"You'll keep an eye on them?"  
  
"Of course! I won't let anyone harm Quaxo - you know that!"  
  
"Good."  
  
"I'll go home now. Ah...Tug? Don't get all riled up. Best we don't mention this again. Quaxo's a kitten first and foremost. Our responsibility - nothing will change that."  
  
"Right." Tugger nodded, turning away brusquely before he gave in to his impulse to hug his brother. It wouldn't do to show weakness. And, the way the tabby put it, it didn't really sound all that worrying.  
  
Creeping silently up to the sleeping kitten, he lay down beside him, curling up around the small form and drawing it into his arms. The fur ball began purring, nestling into the silky golden mane and sneezing softly. All was as it had been, if not for the elder tom's feeling that he was now guarding a big, imposing secret.  
  
"Wa-ke-upp!"  
  
The large frame shifted, but the tiny black and white paws had not enough force behind them to shake the elder tom awake.  
  
"Ru-mm-y!"  
  
The slightly screeching, high-pitched wail was meant to penetrate even the sleepiest cat's dream world, making no exception for the Rum Tum Tugger. He groaned, flinging his arm across his face, knocking Quaxo off his paws. The soft thud he made as he connected with the cold floor that was covered by one threadbare blanket only finally woke the elder tom, his concern showing as his eyes popped open and fixed on the little face.  
  
"You ok? What is it?"  
  
"Tr-app-y said Sa-nta Cl-a-ussy co-mes."  
  
Tugger looked just slightly confused. 'Santa Claussy' was not exactly a well-known concept at the junkyard, especially for someone who had stopped believing in that stupid human rubbish months ago. But he bit back the snippy retort about how there was no such thing as this 'Claussy' guy as soon as he caught side of the wide, sparkling eyes.  
  
"Ah…yes…ah…"  
  
Perhaps he might have to find his brother and ask him what in Heaviside's name he was up to telling the kitten stuff like that - the little thing would believe just about anything! And he was, of course, the one who had to set things straight. Not for the first time he wished he hadn't been 'adopted' by Quaxo. Motherhood had never been high on his priority list.  
  
"When's he com-ing?"  
  
"Ah…he…ah…in…the aftern…ah evening."  
  
"When?"  
  
"Ah…you're…ah…sleeping already."  
  
"Can I st-ayupp?"  
  
"It's STAY UP! Two words not one!"  
  
"What's two, Rum-my?"  
  
"Ah…Munku'll explain it."  
  
Before the kitten could level another impossibly exasperating and totally unanswerable question at him, he had grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and left the dwelling, trying to shake off sleep as he set out to find his brother.  
  
"What am I supposed to do now? There's no Santa and you know it! Why in the Everlasting Cat's name did you tell him such a wild story?"  
  
"It's not a wild story, Tugger. He believes in Santa Claus bringing his presents like every other kitten. We believed in him too."  
  
"There is no Santa Claus!"  
  
The leopard spots were glowing as dangerously as the blue eyes as these words were spat out between gritted teeth.  
  
Quaxo didn't want to believe his ears. That just couldn't be! Trappy had told him there was a Santa Claussy. Why would he say that if it wasn't true? He had so wanted to see Claussy - he had already pictured him, looking very much like Old Deuty, big and cuddly and smiling.  
  
He knew he shouldn't have listened, yet it was cold and he'd just sat down close to the door for a bit of warmth. He knew it was best to forget what the two toms had said and pretend to play. But he couldn't. Stepping inside hesitantly, he asked, "No Cl-au-ssy?"  
  
The two elder toms turned around in a flash, staring helplessly at the little black fur ball in front of them. If the shaking tone of voice hadn't already been enough to melt a stone, the tears forming in those dark eyes would have worked just as well. Glaring at his brother, the silver tabby laid a paw on the hunched shoulder,  
"Jenny's been making a white mouse pie, I'm sure she'd give us some if we asked her nicely - you haven't had breakfast yet, have you?"  
  
"Mm-ouse pie?"  
  
The kitten's interest was momentarily focused on his rumbling stomach. Munkustrap smiled encouragingly as he led him off, casting a glance over his shoulder that clearly said 'Think of something!' - unfortunately Tugger didn't have a clue as to how he could set that slip of tongue right.  
  
For all he hated this Santa Claus and Christmas business, his little charge obviously thought there was such a thing, and it would not do to hurt him. Those tearful eyes were enough to chill him. It wasn't fair to take Quaxo's innocent pleasures and beliefs from him - he had never had a proper family after all. Tugger sighed. He hated motherhood.  
  
The little kitten was very quiet the whole day, or so the elder tom noted. Ever since he'd picked the fur ball up from Jenny's place around noon he had been silent and withdrawn, not once meeting Tugger's eyes. And it was all his own fault, of course.  
  
Since he didn't know how to cheer Quaxo up - for the main reason that he'd never seen him so distraught - he contented himself with giving him a thorough cleaning, from the tips of his ears to the tip of his tail.  
  
Unlike other kittens, the little black tom liked being groomed - having never known his mother, caresses hadn't been lavished on him - and neither Munkustrap nor Tugger usually had the time for it as it was.  
  
Quaxo smiled as the elder tom's rough tongue cleaned his coat - not that it was dirty - but he just couldn't keep it as nice as the others could and he looked scruffy most of the time. He purred softly, enjoying the fact that he had someone's full attention for once. His silky fur shone as the sun began to set and Tugger coughed up hair that he spit out nonchalantly before he sneezed.  
  
"Ru-mm-y ill?"  
  
Quaxo had enjoyed the grooming, but it seemed that the elder tom had not - he looked slightly miffed and made funny sounds.  
  
Cough. "No, just, …" Sneeze. "I swallowed the…" Cough. "I'm fine."  
  
The white face bent sideward, slitted dark eyes behind long lashes scrutinizing the elder tom from the new position.  
  
"Really." Cough. "Let's go home." Sneeze.  
  
He just hoped he hadn't been seen grooming a kit like Jenny would have done. It was embarrassing, humiliating - the fur ball smiled at him. Oh well, he had chosen a secluded spot. It would have been a shame to be inside on a fine day like this.  
  
As they rose, Quaxo's paws didn't even touch the ground before Tugger swept him up in his arms, dreading the effect of dirty snow on the immaculate fur. The walk to his home was quite unnerving, what with Jenny and Jelly dissolving into kittenish laughing fits the moment they caught sight of him.  
  
He was pretty sure that he had either been spotted with the kitten or that the clean fur was a dead give-away. And the satisfied, knowing smirk on Munkustrap's face as he passed him didn't exactly help his mood either.  
  
"There now, bed time." Sneeze. Tugger spit out a few more hairs. His own coat never was such a bother, but then he supposed Quaxo's fur was a little longer than his own.  
  
"Ru-mm-y?"  
  
The voice was almost timid. "Yes."  
  
"No Cl-aus-ssy?"  
  
He couldn't lie. For all that it would have been so easy to make believe. But he just did not lie, not to the little kitten he'd just wrapped in his warmest blanket. "I've not met him. But it seems that Munku has and Munku doesn't lie."  
  
"No Cl-aus-ssy?"  
  
The elder tom sighed, "I don't know."  
  
Quaxo fell silent and turned towards the wall. He had been so excited and happy about Christmas - Santa Claussy brought presents and you didn't have to have a family either - he just gave things to every single kitten! For once he wouldn't be left out! And now Tugger said there was no Santa Claussy.  
  
He tried valiantly not to cry - he wasn't that young anymore after all. But his efforts were lost as the first silver line trickled down the white cheek.  
  
"Munku, wake up, come on now…"  
  
"Wha… TUG! Get your paws off of me! What the hell…"  
  
"You gotta kittensit."  
  
"What? Now? I'm sleeping! It's late! What the…"  
  
"Please, I gotta run an errand, just stay with Quax, kay?"  
  
Grumbling, the grey tabby got up. He did not much like the idea of actually moving his paws out of his little rug haven into the damp, cold snow outside. "When'll ya be back?"  
  
"When I'm back."  
  
And Tugger was gone in the shadows.  
  
Tugger sighed. He'd never thought it would be so hard to find a present for someone. He'd gotten a few himself, bits of tinfoil or ribbons from Munku, special treats from Jenny, the assortment of faded rugs from Jelly and Gus, a few titbits from his father. And all he'd ever given others were flowers and the odd, funny human things one can find in a junkyard - something to laugh over.  
  
But he knew he had to find something very special this time. Santa Claus wouldn't just give a kitten a scrap of glittering stuff or some device or other that it might hurt himself with. New things were hard to come by, of course, and he didn't have much time. Even with Munku kittensitting, he would have to be back before Quaxo woke up.  
  
Then he remembered the trashcans in one of the back alleys he'd often scoured before the fur ball came along and started to take up practically all of his time. He slipped out of the big gate into the darkness and the distinct rumblings of humans and their vehicles passing about in the night.  
  
A few hours later, Tugger still hadn't found anything satisfactorily special. A fish skeleton was all very well, but not the right toy for a kitten with all its sharp ends. Quaxo'd only cut his paws. Maybe it was the Everlasting Cat herself who took pity on him for, when he'd almost given up hope, he came across a little side street he'd never noticed before.  
  
It was darker than most of the others, though not necessarily dirtier. At the far end, a trash can stood, barely visible in the pale light. And there it lay - a slightly faded, ornamental cushion. It shone in the spare illumination, the fabric almost seeming to reflect the moon's glow. Purple silk with golden tassels and an embroidery of intricate knot-work in faded pink. Unusually pretty and fine given the place it had been lying at. Perfect.  
  
Tugger tugged it free from the surrounding junk carefully, brushing it off briskly with his tail. His heart fell as he realized he would have to wash it - there were a few tougher stains on it and dusting alone wouldn't do. But where could he find warm water in the middle of the night?  
  
"Now, my dear kit, calm yourself. You are in quite a state. All ruffled, sit down, there. Oh, leave that thing in front of the door, it is quite disgusting!"  
  
"NO, it's why I've come to you! I gotta wash it! It's a present for Quax. So he'll believe in Santa Claus and…"  
  
The towering cat patted the young tom on the shoulder, ignoring the rattling and deciding to find out exactly what he was dealing with.  
  
"Well, well. So what _is_ this?"  
  
"A cushion. It's a bit dirty and all, but it surely is pretty and special. I really need to give him something good. Quax was so heartbroken when I said there was no Santa and he's not been himself ever since. I gotta make it up to him."  
  
"Well, then I suppose we have to get some hot water for you. Come on, the bathroom is this way, we should have the best luck with the sink there."  
  
"Thank…"  
  
"No need to mention it, my dear kit. That is quite a charming surprise for the little one, we do not want to spoil it now, do we?"  
  
Tugger sighed. Well, it could have been worse. Other than having to endure Bustopher's proper speeches for the next few hours he'd done very well. If he was lucky, the cushion would be clean and dry before sunrise, giving him enough time to slip back home unnoticed.  
  
"Sorry, took longer than I thought."  
  
"You've been gone all night!"  
  
"Did he wake up?"  
  
"No, slept like a log."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Why're you grinning like that?"  
  
"Go home, Munku."  
  
His impertinence earned him a soft slap on his head, a broad grin and then the tabby was gone, not without winking and whispering, "Good work, Rummy." Smiling, Tugger carefully placed the slightly grubby parcel beside Quaxo's bed.  
  
The wrapping might have been better, but he hadn't had much time and he wasn't exactly gifted when it came to dealing with layers of old newspapers that would stick out in all directions and refuse to cooperate when he tried to tie them with string.  
  
Patting the blanket covering the little kitten, he yawned, feeling terribly pleased with himself and deadly tired. Curling up in a tight ball, he was asleep and snoring within moments.  
  
As soon as he was sure the elder tom slept, a small black nose poked out from its cover, sniffing at the wrapped bundle. Though he was curious to know what was inside, Quaxo was even more curious about Tugger going out in the middle of the night to get it. It didn't even remotely smell of food, rather of something that Jenny used now and then to clean up, something she called 'soap'.  
  
The kitten trailed his eyes across the elder tom's dirty paws and ruffled mane, and abandoned the interesting package at once, disentangling himself from the warm blanket and dragging it towards the sleeping figure.  
  
Since Quaxo was so small, he didn't have much luck with actually wrapping 'Rummy' up, so he stepped lightly into the half circle of the elder tom's arms and curled up against his chest, purring softly in time with the snores. It wasn't long before he succumbed to sleep again, lulled in by Tugger's steady heartbeat and warmth.  
  
Tugger blinked carefully into the light, registering only the kitten in his arms for a moment. Nudging the fur ball with his nose, he was met with a wide yawn and glittering dark eyes that smiled up at him.  
  
"Morning."  
  
"M-or-ni-ng."  
  
A soft push of the elder tom's paws had Quaxo stumbling towards the newspaper wrapped bundle. He eyed it quizzically, then looked at Tugger.  
  
"I guess there's a Santa Claus after all."  
  
"Re-a-ll-y?"  
  
Praying that the kitten couldn't see through the thin story he was about to tell, he continued, "Well, there's a present for you, and no one but Santa walks about at night."  
  
"For me?"  
  
"Yes, of course, I'm not a kitten and only kittens get presents from Santa." Now he well and truly sounded like Munku - or Jenny, which was even worse. Hopefully no one would ever hear him. He'd never live down the shame.  
  
Quaxo's smile lit up his face, as he prodded the package carefully with his small paws, finally grabbing the string with his teeth and pulling it apart with a loud rip. The paper didn't long stand a chance against the sharp little claws and in moments the silk cushion came into view.  
  
He couldn't believe it - was there a Santa Claussy now or not? He knew Tugger had brought the package in, at least he thought so; but maybe Santa Claussy had come while he was still sleeping and left it? He'd barely noticed Munkustrap was staying over too, so maybe he'd missed Claussy? It didn't really matter now at any rate - there was a present just for him and he wanted to know exactly what it was!  
  
Tugger practically beamed as he saw the awe on the white face, heard the stifled gasp as the kitten sniffed the shiny fabric and touched it gingerly with his cool nose. He laughed outright when Quaxo, having decided that his present was safe and felt nice, rubbed against the cushion, purring.  
  
It did smell faintly of that soap thing, but not unpleasantly. And there was the scent of flowers on it as well. Looking up, the kitten caught the happy grin on Tugger's face and flung himself at the elder tom, hugging his front paws tightly. He was so happy, Claussy had come and he was home and Rummy was just as happy as he was…  
  
The elder tom was, in the meantime, surprised by the black whirlwind that was now clinging to him and he didn't think twice before nuzzling it between the ears.  
  
"Tugger? Quaxo?"  
  
The grey tabby grinned at them with barely concealed glee, and Tugger mentally slapped himself for not having barred the door. Now he'd be 'Mumma Rummy' to Munku forever.  
  
"Santa's been here I see - he left something in front of your place as well." Munkustrap flung a newspaper wrapped package at his brother - which was caught deftly - before saluting and disappearing with a mischievous, "Merry Christmas!"  
  
"What's in the-re?"  
  
"Not a clue, Quax. Want to open it?"  
  
The little head nodded vigorously. Tugger smiled. Probably from Munku - he had surely planned on giving the kitten something from the start - that's why he'd talked about Santa in the first place. He ought to have known.  
  
The newspaper wrapping fell away to reveal…  
  
"Bl-an-ke-ts!"  
  
"Yeah, and real nice ones!"  
  
"Ru-mm-y! A card!"  
  
Tugger's eyes widened as he took the piece of paper the kitten handed him very carefully. He probably thought it was a letter from Santa.  
  
"Quaxo, Tugger - a very Merry Christmas. Love, Santa Claus."  
  
It was beyond him to understand the mysterious workings of the tabby's mind - he hadn't expected a present himself - and to that there was the fact that the blankets were not only almost new but also spotlessly clean.  
  
It was highly unlikely Munku could have found those some place. He'd have had to spend the whole year scouring the neighbourhood - and even longer washing the blankets again and again to get them this nice and fluffy.  
  
"Br-igh-t c-ol-ou-rs!"  
  
Tugger nodded, his mind racing. Who could have given them such a present? The tabby might have had his paw in it but…  
  
Quaxo grinned happily - now the elder tom was just as much in the Christmas spirit as he was, and he liked that immensely!  
  
"I li-ke Sa-nt-a Cl-aus-ssy!"  
  
"Yeah, Quax, he's nice…"  
  
The kitten woke up fairly early the next morning, stretching luxuriously within the new blankets and poking his very own cushion with his nose. Shaking the sleep out of his small body, he pricked up his ears to listen for Tugger's quiet breathing.  
  
Only that there was something strange going on. The elder tom sounded funny. Not like he usually did when he slept. Softly touching his paw to the golden face, Quaxo purred uncertainly. He hoped it was only one of those dreams - he had them quite often himself.  
  
All was dark and cold and black and he was alone. And his heart was beating very fast when he was finally woken up by Rummy and cuddled closer, feeling the warmth of a real body chasing the figments of his imagination away. That was probably all.  
  
But then again, the kitten wasn't sure, so he decided to find someone who would know. Determination drove him into the chill air and the mists that hung heavy across the 'yard. It definitely hadn't been his best idea to just walk out though, he decided a little while later. Cold was creeping through his fur and he couldn't quite remember how to get back home.  
  
The junk piles were impossibly huge to his eyes, dwarfing him. When he had given up all hope of ever running across any of the older cats, he caught sight of Munkustrap, who greeted him at once.  
  
"Why are you up so early?"  
  
"Tug-ger sounds fun-ny." Finally Quaxo could tell someone, even using the 'proper' address for Rummy this time round. And he was sure that the tabby would know what to do. He was always there to take care of his brother after all, even if he didn't speak of it and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible.  
  
"What do you mean? Snoring, is he?"  
  
The kitten would have sighed in exasperation if he hadn't been so patient. Sometimes it seemed that the elder cats didn't properly listen to him. Staring silently up at the elder tom he said, carefully enunciating every word, "No. Sounds funny."  
  
It didn't help very much, for Munkustrap simply sighed and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, carrying him off. It soon occurred to Quaxo that they were at least going to Tugger's place. So his expedition hadn't been in vain.  
  
After he'd been carefully placed into a bundle of rugs, he watched in fascination as the tabby tried to wake his brother. So he had been right and it was only that dream thing after all. He would have continued to believe it, had not the suddenly anxious look on the elder tom's face told him that something was amiss.  
  
And the sound of Tugger's voice moments later didn't reassure him in the least. Never had he spoken like this before. It sounded like someone else, not at all like Rummy. Getting up and moving closer a little hesitantly, Quaxo asked as quietly as he could, "Mun-ku?"  
  
He wanted to be told everything was fine, but Munkustrap hardly looked at him and his smile wasn't in the least genuine, it lacked the warmth and brightness it usually held. What he said then, made the kitten's heart beat a little faster,  
"Quaxo, please go and ask Jenny to come here. And Jelly too."  
  
"Is he ill?"  
  
It seemed like ages before the tabby confirmed the suspicion and it was all Quaxo needed. Like a flash he raced out of the small dwelling he shared with Tugger, his eyes suddenly too full and his vision clouding slightly. For some bizarre reason he couldn't have explained, he actually found Jenny's place at once.  
  
Not even bothering to knock, he bounded inside, a flock of cool wind and whirling snowflakes trailing in his wake.  
  
"Now, laddy, what a way to say 'good morning' I'm sure!"  
  
"Is something wrong, dear?"  
  
Jenny and Skimbleshanks looked at the fur ball with good humour, though their grins were a little concerned.  
  
"Ru-mm-y!"  
  
"What's with him, laddy?"  
  
"Ill!"  
  
"Oh my goodness! I'll be coming round at once, dear. Skimble, will you take Quaxo to Jelly and ask her to…"  
  
A soft knock on the outside of their dwelling made the two elder cats turn their heads and moments later, Jellylorum herself appeared in the doorway. She was a middle-aged queen, like Jenny and, as the latter rushed off, needed no more than a few words to grasp the direness of the situation.  
  
Taking Quaxo into her arms gently, she murmured soothing things while carrying him to Tugger's place. The kitten didn't quite catch her words, only the tone of her voice and let himself be placated for a while. But as soon as he had seen Rummy's face, he just wanted to go to him.  
  
There was no doubt about him being ill now, if the glassy look in his eyes hadn't been enough of a sign, Munkustrap's sheer horror and panic gave all the evidence one could need. Jelly's hold tightened and Quaxo found himself forcibly pressed close to her, taken away from Rummy when it was so obvious that he should be with him.  
  
"Let me down!"  
  
"No, dear, it's quite early and you haven't had breakfast. I'll get you some hot milk and we'll go back later, right?"  
  
"No! Ru-mm-y's ill!"  
  
"Jenny is with him and Munku. He'll soon be better."  
  
"No, please, Ru-mm-y!" The last word was a drawn-out wail as the kitten stretched out his arms as far as he could, wriggling to escape from the queen's grasp. She was by far stronger than him though and he had to admit defeat at last, sitting huddled in her lap and drinking warm milk while she kept trying to calm him.  
  
Not that there was much of a chance he would. He didn't have a clear concept of what a family was - there was no one his age at the 'yard and all he had known about the whole thing was Rummy and Trappy taking care of him. And even they had a closer connection to each other than they did to their father.  
  
It would have been enough to confuse the kitten had he thought about it, but just then all he wanted was to cuddle close to Tugger and forget all of this, be reassured that the only 'Mummy' he'd ever had was fine, feel the warm breath and gentle heartbeat in his ears.  
  
Time passed very slowly for Quaxo. Jelly wouldn't let him out of her sight for a moment and, to top his bad luck off, Jenny returned after a while, very subdued, with the twins in her wake. Tantomile was, as always, measured and calm, smiling blandly at the elder queens and offering them strength with her silent companionship.  
  
Coricopat, on the other hand, was scowling wildly, even more so when he caught sight of Quaxo. Still, he came over and took the kitten from Jelly's lap, mumbling something along the line of 'I'll keep him occupied.'  
  
"Everything'll be fine."  
  
The small, white-tipped ears twitched. Had the moody tom really said that? It was precisely the same thing Jelly had repeated time and again but it had never sounded so hopeful and believable before.  
  
"Real-ly?"  
  
"Really. Why don't you get some sleep?"  
  
Coricopat lay down and shifted slightly, making room for Quaxo to curl up against his side. The kitten was confused and frightened, so he didn't question the strange behaviour and simply snuggled as close as he could against the warm body, tears trailing silently down his cheeks with every sniff that told him that his source of comfort wasn't Rummy.  
  
_"Quax."_ The well-known voice calling his name roused the kitten from a fitful sleep. Straightening up and looking around, he saw only Coricopat, realizing almost at once that he wasn't home. He dimly matched his surroundings with his memory of Jelly's place though he really hadn't paid too much attention to it all the while he had sat with her.  
  
Tugger wasn't here then. But he had called for Quaxo and that meant he had to go to him. And the only way to do that was to sneak out, disentangling himself from the elder tom's form. Wriggling a little, he managed to dislodge the paw that had fallen onto his back and, carefully setting one paw in front of the other, the kitten finally made it to the door.  
  
He thought he hadn't been noticed, but Tantomile's quiet voice told a different story, "I'll take you. Don't want you to get lost."  
  
Not even waiting for an answer, she grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and slid out into the night. It was even colder than Quaxo had thought it could be and he shivered, his fur standing on end in the chill wind.  
  
The young queen walked fast, reaching her destination quickly. She set the fur ball onto his paws, nudging him forward, "I'll tell them where you are."  
  
The kitten simply nodded, giving a watery smile as 'thank you', and slipped in at the door. Munku was sitting beside Tugger, his head lolling against the wall, obviously sleeping - not very well though as the minute twitches of his face and his arms attested.  
  
Rummy didn't look much better, he didn't sound all that funny any more, in fact, he was hardly to be heard. As much as the strange noise had frightened Quaxo, the quiet was more oppressive and eerie now. It didn't seem right. But then Tugger shifted, saying something that he couldn't quite make out. Apparently the tabby could, for he sat up abruptly, staring at his brother.  
  
"He's cold." The kitten chose to help the elder tom out - he was obviously a bit confused and didn't notice the sudden shivers that went through Rummy's lean frame.  
  
"Go home Quaxo."  
  
"I'm home." There was no denying him this. Not now. He had a right to be here, just as much as Trappy. It was this whole family concept that made it fine. Being there, not leaving when one needed the other.  
  
"He's hot there." Another thing that had to be pointed out. Munku really was a bit off. To make sure his statement was understood correctly, Quaxo softly nudged Tugger's forehead with his paw.  
  
"I know." The normally calm voice sounded strained, as if the tabby's patience were stretched thin. Refusing to be pushed away, the kitten came closer, settling down and curling around Trappy's front paws.  
  
"You're shiv-er-ing." It was quite obvious to the small tom that he really couldn't do much for Tugger at the moment, safe be there. But Munku was awake and alone and he could help him. Purring softly, low in his throat, he felt the tense body relax a little.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"No. Are not."  
  
It wasn't long before the tabby accepted the comfort offered, laying his head against the small body. The kitten felt a few tears drop onto the fur of his back and remained motionless, his purrs the only sound in the stillness.  
  
Munku's sleep wasn't long, though Quaxo's warm presence had ensured it was at least calm. It was the fur ball, however, who woke him up. Having heard Rummy mumble one word over and over again, the kitten had strained his ears to catch it and, after a while, had figured out that it was a name.  
  
Not one that he had heard before, yet it seemed to be very significant for Tugger. Maybe he wanted to see that cat? The only way to make her come was to find her though, and only the tabby would be able to do that.  
  
"Munku! He says 'Cassie'. Often."  
  
The young tom took some time to stumble to his paws, not yet fully awake, but at least having comprehended what Quaxo had said. His reaction sent fear and panic through the kitten's small, shivering frame as he hissed, "GET JENNY!"  
  
Racing through the snow, his paws already numb from the cold, but nowhere near as cold as the feeling that made his heart constrict almost painfully in his chest, Quaxo reached Jenny's dwelling in record time. The elder queen was up, talking to Jelly and the twins in front of her abode - a stroke of luck.  
  
Tantomile and Coricopat excused themselves the moment they caught sight of the kitten, Jenny spared him a glance and went flying past him and Jelly swooped him up in his arms before he had the chance to utter a word.  
  
"There you are! We were worried."  
  
"Ru-mm-y…"  
  
"It's alright, dear."  
  
"Ru-mm-y!" He was resorting to the first name he had ever spoken, clinging to the sound as he clung to the queen who held him as he trembled.  
  
"There now, calm down." Since the kitten wasn't to be placated, Jelly decided to take him back to Tugger's place - it might not be the best move, but surely it was the only thing she could do.  
  
"Don't let him go…please. Don't let him go…"  
  
Munku's words mirrored Quaxo's thoughts as the kitten was, for the first time in his life, confronted with the reality of losing someone he loved. And needed. The realization that something as huge as never seeing Tugger again could happen was too much for him. He shuddered, his eyes brimming with tears he couldn't shed.  
  
The conversation between the two queens passed him by, he only registered the movement as Jelly turned to leave and he strained against her, no thought or emotion left other than that he needed to stay, to sit beside Rummy like Trappy did. To be with them. But he wasn't allowed, and he began sobbing when the futility of his struggle hit him.  
  
"Dear, dear, dear…" Jelly's voice was rough and she patted his back, holding him close. It wasn't enough, wasn't what he needed or wanted. Exhaustion was stronger than him though and the lack of sleep manifested itself quickly as the kitten cried himself into a doze.  
  
On waking up again, Quaxo noticed he was bundled up in a jumble of warm, slightly ragged blankets. Jelly was fast asleep beside him so it wasn't hard to get away this time. The kitten didn't think much. All that mattered was seeing Rummy.  
  
His heart beat so hard it hurt and the snow was awfully cold and wet under his paws. The mists had passed away though and the way was fairly easy to find. The sound of paw steps made him press tightly against a junk pile, just in time to avoid being seen by Jenny as she exited Tugger's place.  
  
The kitten only waited till she was out of sight, then slipped inside, keeping to the shadows, not wanting to disturb Trappy who was talking quietly. Rummy was wrapped up tightly and the tabby held him closely. He was crying, something that Quaxo had never seen him do before. It only made it much clearer to him that the illness was very bad.  
  
The kitten didn't make a sound, trying to ignore the pain, the feeling of not belonging, of being alone that threatened to engulf him. He wanted to be held and there was no one who would take him in his arms. He cried along with Munku, his tears the only way to share in the emotions.  
  
Quaxo half listened to the stories the tabby told his brother - their kittenhood in simple, easy words. A narrative of a devotion and love that connects those very close to each other. He didn't know it was almost morning when Jelly peered into the dwelling, catching sight of him and shaking her head.  
  
She didn't seem all too put out at his having sneaked out though, as if she could somehow understand him. Seeing that he was the only one to volunteer the information the elders always were in need of yet again, he said, "Slee-ping." And even his stumbling over the word was drowned out in the soft tone.  
  
The queen only nodded, smiling as she stepped closer and touched Tugger's forehead. The sad look on her face changed within moments as she breathed, "Quaxo, go get Jenny, quick."  
  
If it hadn't been for her bright mien, the kitten would have panicked - yet her look gave him hope as he rushed off in search of the Gumbie. He almost ran her over coming out the door, as she had decided to check up on her patient.  
  
Quaxo caught the whispered conversation between the two queens and, on being informed that everything would indeed be alright, he laughed softly. He was still smiling when Jelly woke Munku who was quite frantic, not even looking at Tugger.  
  
"Not ill anymore," the kitten reassured the tabby, pawing at Rummy's head as he snuggled close to the grey body, purring contentedly. Suddenly there was an almost hectic bustle as the queens left and then it was quiet for a moment.  
  
Quaxo looked up quizzically, only to see Trappy's face. The young tom was wild, the sobs breaking free even as he tried to stifle them. Since there was nothing else he could think of doing, the kitten rubbed his head against every part of the larger body he could reach, continuing to purr.  
  
Munku had made him promise not to tell Tugger just what had happened. And he had, of course, given his word. A very solemn affair. Now he was quite proud of himself, for having been entrusted with a secret.  
  
Sitting guard over Rummy, he grinning as the elder tom opened his eyes and blinked, slightly disoriented.  
  
"Munk?"  
  
"Working." The kitten wasn't quite sure what to make of Tugger's asking for his brother. It did feel almost as if he weren't as important as Trappy was. And that wasn't something he wanted to think about. So he simply said, "It's sno-w-ing."  
  
"Nice…"  
  
Of course Rummy wouldn't be interested all that much. He still seemed to be a little beside himself, not even heeding Jenny properly when she checked on him.  
  
"Munku left you a mouse earlier, and here's one for Quaxo too…"  
  
The kitten smiled, looking at the tabby standing just outside the dwelling. Tugger couldn't see him from his prone position, which was all the better, since it had to be a secret that he was there anyway.  
  
"What're you looking at?"  
  
"The snow," he replied, laughing when the elder tom snorted. As soon as Jenny had left, he opened his arms and patted the space beside him, grinning. Quaxo padded over, cuddling against the warm, black side and sniffing at strands of the golden mane. It was the scent of home and of comfort. The kitten closed his eyes, leaning still closer, a tear trickling down his pale cheek when Tugger put an arm round him, holding him tightly.  
  
Quaxo pawed slowly and carefully through the fresh snow. His nose quivered when he picked up a scent that was vaguely familiar, just before a flash passed before his eyes and he was knocked back into the cold whiteness. A surprised gasp later, with his fur all wet, he heard a high, breathless laugh.  
  
Looking up, he made out the form of another kitten, blending in well with the background. It was a small tom, a little older than Quaxo perhaps, with a few splotches and stripes of black, though his coat was mostly a smooth, perfect white. Blue eyes sparkled as a slender paw threw a cloud of snow into the other cat's direction.  
  
"Hey!" Quaxo was by no means happy to be showered with the powdery stuff that clung to his fur and made him feel cold.  
  
"Who're you?" the strange little tom asked.  
  
"Quaxo. And you?"  
  
"Alonzo."  
  
"You're new."  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Where did you come from?" It apparently wasn't the most sensible question he could have come up with, after all Alonzo was wrinkling his nose and beginning to frown.  
  
"Out of town." It was a very curt answer and by no means what the other kitten had expected. Not that it made the newcomer any less interesting. In fact, the mystery surrounding him was quite enticing for an inquisitive mind like Quaxo's.  
  
"Wanna play?" he asked finally, unsure whether Alonzo would want to at all and if he would be as much fun as Rummy and Trappy were - when in a good mood.  
  
"Race you!" Alonzo squeaked, the frown disappearing from his features at once as he darted off in the general direction of the assembly area, stumbling and tumbling head first into the snow. He didn't seem to mind too much for he pulled himself up and grinned, flinging some more of the whiteness at the other kitten.  
  
"I'll get you!" And the little black tom was off as well, somewhat more gracefully than his new friend, but ending up just as clumsily in the next deeper drift a few moments later.  
  
It was not long after Alonzo's introduction to the tribe, that Jenny gave birth to a tom kitten and George took in another young one, Victor. His father had never been known and his mother was no longer willing to care for her offspring so she dropped him off at the junkyard, sure that her former lover would not be able to deny her.  
  
Quaxo soon found himself in the happy position of having quite a few playmates and had to admit it was more fun than hoping Rummy or Trappy would have the time and inclination to race him or go fishing.  
  
Not that Alonzo, Victor and Quaxo were allowed to be off on their own - since Munkustrap was mostly too busy to kitten-sit, Admetus took over the job and since he was quiet, pleasant and yet not averse to having fun and laughing, his charges quite enjoyed his presence.  
  
Now and then they found themselves forced to sit with Jenny's new kitten, Bill Bailey, a very fancy name that had, no doubt, been coloured by Skimble's love for the human drink _Bailey's_. Though not quite grasping the meaning of 'alcoholic', Quaxo knew that the Gumbie was always lecturing her mate about his tastes.  
  
Called 'Billy' affectionately, the fur ball was probably the most boring thing the other young cats had ever come across. But since Admetus was the only readily available kittensitter who actually enjoyed the task, they had to accept the inevitable and play as quietly as possible so they wouldn't wake the baby kit.  
  
"Careful with that tinfoil, Alonzo!" But the elder tom's warning passed away unheard and he couldn't jump up and grab the kitten since Billy was sprawled across his lap, sleeping peacefully and snoring lightly.  
  
"Ouch!" Alonzo's voice was pained as it well might be for he had cut his paw deeply and a thin trickle of blood was running across the pad into the remains of dirty snow. Sighing, the kittensitter lifted his charge from the comfortable position and got up, groaning when he heard the kittenish wail at having been woken.  
  
"Let's get you to Jenny, Al. You others, come along too."  
  
"But we're not hurt!" Of course Victor would be indignant to have his playing disrupted, Quaxo was more acquiescent.  
  
"We're too far from the main area of the 'yard for you to stay here alone. I'll leave you in front of the tire, 'kay?"  
  
"Oh, well, if we _have_ to…"  
  
Admetus' patience was being stretched thin - he finally began to understand why Munkustrap was so happy to do everything but kittensit and what made Coricopat's face drop the moment he saw one of those fur balls.  
  
"Shut up and do as you're told!" It was the most forceful and commanding sentence he'd ever uttered in the kittens' presence and it worked like a charm. Not that he had needed it for Quaxo, but Al and Victor were subdued at once. Good. At least he'd only have to contend with a lecture about tinfoil being dangerous for young cats now. Jenny would never let him off.  
  
Luckily, the Gumbie was too occupied to pay much heed to Admetus. She bandaged Alonzo's paw quickly, then shooed the toms out. Their ears pricked up at the sound of a feeble 'meow' but they dared not ask who it came from.  
  
Skimble, standing outside his place and happily accepting his son into his arms, was more talkative and answered their unvoiced question immediately.  
  
"There's a new kit here, aye, that's right, lads. And a right pretty one at that. Ye'll all be running after her in a few months I warrant."  
  
Everyone but Admetus looked sufficiently disgusted at the mere thought of a young queen in their midst, and he continued with a chuckle,  
  
"Found the poor thing on the rails - near Glasgow station. Seems like someone wanted to get rid of her too. Such a wee lass, barely as old as me laddy here," he tickled Billy's ears and earned a kittenish squeal for it that made him beam even more, "Jenny was all over her the moment I brought her in!"  
  
"Will she be staying?"  
  
"We can't very well throw her out, lad, can we? It's hardly March, nights are cold. Wonder she even made it - must've been lying there for a day or two already. She's a hardy lassie that's fer sure."  
  
Admetus nodded, half-heartedly grabbing Victor's tail to stop him from doing a somersault that, with his gawky frame and the clumsiness it brought with it, would have led him to hurt himself. He was sporting numerous scratches from his recent escapades as it was, and Jenny was never pleased having to take care of him when he could well avoid all this trouble.  
  
"Have you named her yet?"  
  
"Well, Jenny thought of _Jemima_, sort of a fancy name for such a little thing."  
  
"So you talked her out of it?"  
  
"Not…quite," Skimble laughed lightly, "she told me I could chose a name for the lassie if I let her have free reign naming our next litter."  
  
"So you agreed?"  
  
"She would've named them herself as it is - I was lucky to get in a word with this little fellow here," again he tickled Billy, his eyes shining with pride when the kitten slapped his nose none too lightly.  
  
Quaxo was deep in thought when he came home that evening. To his great relief, Munkustrap was waiting for him, dinner ready. Wanting to have a very difficult question answered, the kitten was sure it was better to have the tabby's patience and sound explanations than Tugger's usually quite fast-paced ramblings.  
  
"Quax - you're very quiet - you alright?"  
  
"Yes. Just, Ski-mb-le and Jen-ny have a new kitten."  
  
"Oh yes, George told me earlier this evening. A queen, right?"  
  
The little tom nodded, bracing himself for the long and complicated phrase he had thought out for most of his walk home,  
"Ski-mb-le said he would name her and I just don't know how you get a na-me and how I was ca-ll-ed Quaxo and…"  
  
"Take a breath there, Quax! I think I know what you mean. You want to know how the whole naming business works?"  
  
The kitten's head nodded enthusiastically and Munkustrap smiled. An inquisitive mind was always a challenge that he enjoyed - unlike Tugger who still thought giving information was the worst possible punishment that could be exacted on him. Not that it would stop him from explaining something to Quaxo, of course.  
  
"Naming a kitten is always a very difficult matter - the parents think carefully - they usually try to find names that are in tune with the little one's personality. There are three kinds of names that cats have. One is a common one that might even be used by humans. Whether or not a kit is given one of those depends on the situation of course."  
  
"In tune?"  
  
The tabby smiled. He'd obviously been too fast for Quaxo. "The name should say who the cat is. So when you call someone, you are not just using a simple word. You address them with a name that shows that you respect them. A name that is as unique as the cat who carries it."  
  
"But a com-mon name?"  
  
"This is quite interesting actually. Some cats are given a common name because it seems to show who they are when they are very young. Later on, you usually find that the instinct of their parents was right - the name will not fit any other cat properly, even though it's a common name."  
  
Quaxo nodded and straightened up slightly, cocking his head to indicate he was ready to hear more. Munkustrap ruffled the dark head fur affectionately, chuckling when the little tom moved closer and cuddled up against his side.  
  
"So now, there are names that are totally new, that have never been used before. Special ones if you want. Like Jellylorum or Rum Tum Tugger or Deuteronomy."  
  
"And Mu-nku-str-ap?"  
  
"Yes, like Munkustrap. And also like Quaxo."  
  
The kitten practically beamed up at the tabby then, excited and pleased to hear that his name was not common, but instead so unique that no one had been called by it before.  
  
"And then there is the third name that belongs to only one cat alone. It's rumoured that most of us only ever hear it in their heads. It's not shared usually."  
  
"Us-ual-ly?"  
  
"I have been told that sometimes magical cats express their abilities by their third name. Father once said that only those entitled to such powers can ever speak this name aloud."  
  
"Tant-omi-le and Cori-cop-at are third names?"  
  
Munkustrap smiled, "Not that I know of. I think they are special names. The twins are not 'magical' in the correct sense of the word. And I can't tell you what exactly it means either. It differs from one magical cat to the other I believe."  
  
"How did you thi-nk of my name?"  
  
Grinning and patting the black head gently, the tabby answered the question, glad to have a way of steering clear of the whole 'magical' business. He had felt it was only fair to add the information Tantomile had recently given him, but he was very uncomfortable talking about things that Quaxo couldn't yet properly understand. After all, the kitten still hadn't shown any unusual behaviour.  
  
"Quaxo was meant to be my brother's name."  
  
"Why was he cal-led Tug-ger then?"  
  
"Ah, it wasn't Tug…"  
  
Munkustrap trailed off, finding himself in a very delicate situation. He had promised himself never to divulge that he and Tugger only shared a father, since Quaxo was curious enough to demand the whole story.  
  
The kitten's mind was working very hard in the meantime. It sounded as if the tabby had more siblings than he had supposed and he couldn't figure out who they were. Maybe they had left the tribe along with their mother? Because he couldn't remember having ever seen Rummy's and Trappy's Mum.  
  
"Did he lea-ve with your Mu-mm-y?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
It was no lie, after all. His brother had been still-born and his mother was dead. Munkustrap looked very tired and downcast all of a sudden, so Quaxo decided not to ask him anything else, even though he wanted to know so very much. Perhaps it would be easier to talk to Tugger now that he had some basic ideas.  
  
"Din-ner?" he queried therefore, smiling when the tabby's face lit up briefly.  
  
"Tug-ger, can I ask you some-thing?"  
  
"Quax! Ya almost scared the hell out of me! I've barely come in at the door!"  
  
Having had a very nice evening with one of the queens that seemed to flock to him as soon as he sprawled out in the sun, flaunting his - admittedly - attractive body, he wasn't prepared to be greeted with a white kitten face and alert, glittering brown eyes. The fur ball should have slept already.  
  
"Please, Tug-ger."  
  
He hated the way Quaxo always managed to put just the right emphasis on each word, so that it was practically impossible to say 'no'.  
  
"Alright, but make it fast here, kit. I'm tired."  
  
"Why did your Mu-mm-y go away with Quaxo?" The little tom was immensely proud of his long sentence. But looking at Tugger, he drew back slightly, for the heartthrob's face was harsh and cold, even more so in the gloomy remnants of moonlight that filtered into the dwelling.  
  
"Who told you she left? And what's that 'Quaxo' business?"  
  
"Mu-nku said she went and that you ga-ve me the na-me cause it was," he tried to remember the exact words, "meant for your broth-er."  
  
"I think you should talk to Munkustrap about it, since he thought it was necessary to mention it in the first place."  
  
Quaxo drew close to the wall, unsure what to make of the coldness in Tugger's usually warm voice and the harsh tone he had spoken his brother's name in. It was highly unusual and it confused him, almost as much as it scared him.  
  
Since he didn't want to make matters worse than they already were, with Tugger refusing to acknowledge Munkustrap's presence and the tabby trying to keep out of his brother's way, the kitten decided to ask someone who could surely answer him and would also be able to tell him how to mend the breach he had unwillingly caused.  
  
While Alonzo and Victor sat talking to Tantomile one morning, Quaxo approached Admetus. Coricopat was, for inexplicable reasons and to his great disgust, a favourite with kittens and had been 'claimed' as playfellow by Billy and his newly adopted sister Electra - suffering the tapping from tiny paws and little claws with a stoic mien.  
  
"Ade, do you think I could go visit Old Deut-ero-no-my to-day?"  
  
"If you stop calling me 'Ade', we can talk about it."  
  
The kitten grinned, knowing that the elder tom detested his nickname as much as Tugger and Munku hated theirs and was just as accepting of its being used.  
  
"When can I go?"  
  
"I'll take you after lunch, alright? Jenny wants Al's help this afternoon and Skimble is free so he'll kittensit Electra and Billy. I suppose I can throw Victor at them and take the rest of the day off."  
  
Quaxo didn't need to ask if Admetus would take him back home as well as taking him to the vicarage - the elder tom definitely wasn't going to let him wander the streets alone.  
  
"It is quite surprising to have you visit me, Quaxo. I hope you are well? Have Tantomile and Coricopat talked to you?"  
  
"No. Why?"  
  
"No particular reason, Quaxo. So why have you come then?"  
  
Deuteronomy was definitely at a loss about the kitten's appearance. There had been no indication that his powers had manifested themselves and yet the young one seemed very nervous and distraught. At least to his old eyes.  
  
"I ask-ed Mun-ku and then Tug-ger and now they don't talk!"  
  
"You will have to explain that a little better, Quaxo."  
  
"Mun-ku told me ab-out my na-me and that his Mu-mm-y left with Quaxo and…"  
  
"She left with whom?"  
  
"Quaxo, his broth-er, and Tug-ger was rea-ll-y ang-ry when I ask-ed him and…"  
  
The shaggy grey tom didn't look as if he understood him properly, and the kitten was beginning to be exasperated. It was so hard to make the adults see what he meant. He just wasn't that good at expressing himself yet.  
  
"Well, Quaxo, it seems that the two of them are not happy about the topic and do not wish to discuss it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It is not my place to come in between them or to tell you what they feel should remain a secret. I think it would be better if Admetus took you home now."  
  
Taking the kitten's paw firmly, he led him to the young tom, barely saying goodbye before going back to his sunny spot on the vicarage wall.  
  
"Now that was quick. Quaxo, are you alright, you seem a bit beside yourself."  
  
"No one tells me any-thing!"  
  
"What do you want to know?"  
  
Sighing, Quaxo sank down in the grass beside Admetus, trying to put his story in short, intelligible sentences. When he had finished, his companion looked a little uneasy, before smiling and offering the kitten his paw.  
  
"I don't know the whole story and I'm not sure if I should tell you, but I don't think it's fair to keep you out like this either. Let's go to the brook, we'll get a nice fish snack and I'll see if I can explain Munku's and Tugger's behaviour to you."  
  
"First of all, you should know that Deuteronomy was with two queens at about the same time. One bore Tugger and left soon after, the other had Munku. The rest of her litter died and she took in Tugger. A few months later she died herself. It was an accident I believe. Munku doesn't talk about it much."  
  
"But Mun-ku said that…"  
  
"Both his Mum and his brother are dead. So he wasn't lying when he said they had left. It's just not something he does, lying I mean. Tugger's probably angry because he didn't want you to know about his mother. He's never known her and I think that it still hurts him. Because he doesn't really have a family."  
  
"He does! Deuty and Mun-ku and me!"  
  
Admetus smiled, tossing a few fish bones behind his back, "Perhaps he just needs to be reminded of that. You like being hugged, don't you?"  
  
Quaxo nodded and the elder tom continued, with a mischievous smirk, "Why don't you hug Tugger then? And Munku too while you're at it. I'm sure they'll feel much better then."  
  
A slow grin spread across the kitten's white face - Adme knew the brothers very well, so he was probably right - it was surprising that it would be so easy! He should have thought of it himself.  
  
As soon as Tugger had fallen asleep that night - after coming in late and very grumpy - Quaxo slipped out of their dwelling, in search of Munkustrap. Admetus had told him that the tabby would be prowling the area near the tire and it wasn't long before the kitten saw the silvery silhouette disengage itself from the shadows of the junk piles.  
  
"Munku!"  
  
The elder tom whirled around, apprehensive at first, then surprised, "What in Heaviside's name are you doing here? Is… Tug alright?"  
  
Quaxo shook his head, adding only what wasn't an outright lie, "Needs you."  
  
Moments later, the tabby had scooped the kitten up and was bounding towards his brother's place, anxious and worried. He dropped his load rather unceremoniously before flinging himself at the sleeping form, shaking it vigorously.  
  
If not for the terror on his face, it would have been an amusing sight. But knowing how Tugger's illness the preceding winter had taxed the tabby, Quaxo thought he should say something to ease the panic. Before he could open his mouth, however, the lanky tom awoke, mumbling a few choice words and pushing his brother off with a hard swipe.  
  
"What the hell's wrong with you? It's in the middle of the night, have you lost it?"  
  
Since Munkustrap had already grabbed Tugger's wrist to feel the pulse and was reaching out with his other paw to check his temperature, the kitten decided to act as quickly as he could. Moving closer, he cuddled between the two elder toms, saying quietly, "You like each other."  
  
That was enough to stun both of them as they stared at the black fur ball purring up at them with a smile on his face. The tabby took a moment to let go of his brother's arm, shaking his head slightly as he asked, a little breathless still, "You said he needed me!"  
  
"He does." Dark eyes sparkled dangerously at Tugger who didn't dare contradict the kitten. It was the truth, after all. Not that he would ever voice that.  
  
"I know ab-out your mu-mm-ies. I'm sor-ry." Quaxo tapped each of the two lightly with a small white paw, hoping they wouldn't be all too angry with him. Since they were still dumb-founded, they didn't react for a while.  
  
"I'm sorry, Tug. I shouldn't have started this."  
  
"Forget it." Munkustrap received a playful punch and a slightly unsteady smile, then Tugger reached out to scratch the kitten's small, white tipped ears. The tabby patted the black back gently and Quaxo closed his eyes, his purring becoming quieter as he slowly succumbed to sleep, secure in the knowledge that everything was alright again.  
  
"Hey, guys, guess what?"  
  
Alonzo prowled about in front of his friends who were expectantly pricking up their ears; suddenly he grinned widely, spreading his arms and jumping up and down excitedly.  
  
"Tomorrow's my birthday! Dad sent Auntie Jenny a cool present for me, he's too busy to come himself, as usual, but I'm sure he'll have got me something extra special!"  
  
"Will you have a party?"  
  
"Nope, not this time, Auntie Jenny's pregnant again, would be too much for her."  
  
Alonzo did seem a little wistful about it, but none of the other kittens heeded it too much. They knew his family was a tender subject - his mother had died and his father didn't have time enough to care for his offspring and had just shipped him off to his sister at the 'yard.  
  
Quaxo's thoughts were going in quite a different direction, however, while the others began discussing all the presents that Alonzo was likely to get.  
  
"Tug-ger?"  
  
"Ah, yes?"  
  
"What's a birth-day?"  
  
Munkustrap almost dropped the bowl of milk he had been holding and exchanged a quick look with his brother. They should have known something like this would come up soon enough.  
  
"Ah, it's a … Munku'll tell you."  
  
"It's the day you were born, Quaxo." The tabby levelled an accusing glare at Tugger, but the lanky tom didn't meet his eyes.  
  
"Do you have one?"  
  
"Yes, certainly."  
  
"And Tug-ger?"  
  
"Tugger too."  
  
"And me?"  
  
Dark eyes were wide and open, staring up at the two elder cats. Munkustrap sighed, "Yes, you too."  
  
"When?"  
  
"We…ah…don't know."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Tugger sighed and seated himself on his bed, "Come here, Quax."  
  
Quick as lightning, the kitten had raced towards him, cuddling up in his lap and beginning to purr at once. The elder toms exchanged another look and Munkustrap came to join his brother and his charge. The little fur ball was so affectionate and trusting - how were they to tell him the truth?  
  
"Listen, Quax, you have a birthday but…"  
  
"…we don't know when it is. You see, we found you on the streets and we don't know who your…parents are and so we can't…ask anyone."  
  
The purring stopped abruptly and the small head hid against Tugger's side. The elder tom didn't need to feel the first tears on his fur to know the kit was hurting. Patting the little body as comfortingly as he could, he said very carefully, keeping his eyes on his brother,  
  
"But you know, your birthday has to be in ah…," Munkustrap mouthed 'October', "in…ah…October because we…ah…found you late in October and…ah…"  
  
"…you were only a few weeks old, so it's got to be the…" Tugger nodded and the tabby continued, "…the beginning of October."  
  
"See, you got a birthday. And, what's best about it, you get to choose the day!"  
  
"I do?" the quivering nose was just visible beneath the small paws, eyes sparkling with tears still.  
  
"Yes," Tugger tried to be reassuring, "none of the others can decide but you can. Now, Munku taught you the numbers from one to ten and you'll just take one of them and we'll have your birthday."  
  
"Ten."  
  
Munkustrap shrugged, smiling slightly as the kitten finally looked up at the lanky black tom and sniffed slightly, having 'chosen' his date of birth.  
  
"So October 10 it is, Quax."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"When is Octo-ber?"  
  
"Well, that's still a while away I'm afraid," Tugger said quietly, looking at the tabby for approval. On receiving another encouraging nod, he continued, "but since you haven't ever had a celebration for your birthday, we will just do it now."  
  
"Now?"  
  
"Well, shall we say in three days' time? We can tell everyone about it and you'll have time to think of the presents you want."  
  
The dark kitten eyes brightened visibly even though the little head shook vigorously as a small paw reached out to tap first Munkustrap, then Tugger on the arm, "Got every-thing."  
  
Tugger was frantic - to be exact, he was almost hysteric. He had lost his little charge. Normally, it wouldn't have bothered him too much since Quaxo liked stumbling about the assembly area - but he wasn't there any longer. For all that he was small, the black and white kitten couldn't just disappear into thin air.  
  
And Tugger was responsible. Munkustrap had, with an apologetic face, asked him to kittensit. It would have been the tabby's turn, but he was needed by Old Deuteronomy. Of course. Today of all days. Tomorrow was Quaxo's 'birthday' and that was the main reason that the lanky black tom hadn't paid as close attention to the fur ball as he usually did.  
  
He had been preoccupied trying to think of a suitable present. What was he supposed to get the kit? He didn't like boisterous games, didn't bounce about on plastic balls or play with hoops and ribbons. He was just plain happy to lie there and cuddle up to either of his adopted brothers.  
  
Preferably Tugger. He seemed to like having someone to be round more than anything… An idea occurred to the young tom, but he brushed it aside - most important was finding the kit, not the present - at least for the moment.  
  
"QUAXO!" He was past caring if someone noticed now. A lecture wouldn't kill him. He could tune it out. Or, better still, he could listen and feel the guilt creeping up on him for his awful negligence. All his fault. He really was good for nothing. Not even kittensitting…  
  
"QUAXO!" Tugger had looked everywhere, even made comforting noises time and again, just in case something had scared the fur ball, but to no avail. His voice was beginning to sound decidedly like a queen's, excitement giving it a high, almost shrill ring, "QUAXO!"  
  
"Tug?"  
  
The lanky tom whirled around, seeing the tabby who carried…  
  
"QUAXO!" the shriek would have done a human female being attacked by a dinosaur proud. Forgetting pride and dignity as well as his heartthrob reputation, Tugger raced towards his brother, grabbing the kitten and pulling him into a tight hug.  
  
Small paws tangled in his mane and a very quiet voice mumbled, "So-rr-y." The 'r' rolled off the little tongue almost comically Scottish since it was accompanied by a low kittenish purr.  
  
"Quaxo wanted to play hide-and-seek and got lost between the junk piles. I found him totally confused near Bomba's place."  
  
"I shouldn't have let him out of my sight...."  
  
Tugger's breathing was almost back to normal, and the panic lessened as did the pressure of his arms around the little body.  
  
"No scolding, you got enough of a shock." The tabby's dark eyes gleamed - it was just too good to see his brother lose his cool, and he had to admit that Bomba was right when she said he was 'cute' with the kitten in his arms.  
  
"So-rr-y," the small voice intoned quietly once more, muffled by the elder tom's neck and the golden mane that fell across his shoulders.  
  
"Never mind, you rascal." Rubbing the black head fur with his cheek, Tugger patted his charge's back lightly.  
  
"Want me to take over now?"  
  
"Ah…ahem…yes." Realizing what he was doing and that he was really looking like 'Mumma Rummy', the lean tom held the kitten out to Munkustrap, looking anywhere but at him.  
  
"No one saw you. And Quaxo and I will keep this a secret, kay?"  
  
Tugger nodded, gratefully. How was he ever to be a hit with queens if he lost his reason the moment that small fur ball did something unpredictable? Like running off, vanishing…his heartbeat increased as he thought of all that could have happened - rabid pollicles, strays, cars…  
  
"I…ah…gotta…"  
  
"See you tonight - you can bring dinner."  
  
The tabby was enjoying himself thoroughly. He saw the emotions flickering in his brother's blue eyes and he knew how to interpret them. Poor tom, to be so cruelly reminded that he had a heart time and again.  
  
"Whatever do you need all this for?" the theatre cat's voice was laced with doubting awe as he indicated the pile of old rugs, bits and pieces of thread, ribbons and buttons as well as needles with his paw. He had taken over his father's - Asparagus' senior's - place on the stage a while ago and with it also inherited the honorary title of 'theatre cat'.  
  
"I got some of Jenny's old stuff…ya know…just a little project."  
  
"I see."  
  
"Could I just leave it here for a while? Not long, I'll be back later today…"  
  
"Ah, sure, sonny, if that helps…"  
  
"Yes, it does, thanks Gus, you're a sport!"  
  
Tugger raced off, a bounce in his step as the elder tom looked after him, shaking his head, "To think that he belongs to Deuteronomy is quite scary…those genes gotta be dangerous - first Knight Munkustrap, now Airhead Tugger - whatever would Cassie say…"  
  
It was absolutely horrible to see what humans threw away - all of these things could still be used. Typical for them, really. So it didn't take the lanky tom too long to find what he had come for. He had remembered that the human kittens had lots of playthings in their bedrooms, but the one they liked best was always a stuffed, round cloth which they called 'teddy'.  
  
He supposed it was something like a friend rather than a toy, for they wouldn't go to sleep without it. He was sure Quaxo would like to have something like that. Better than giving him a blanket as he was sure Munku would.  
  
"There we are…" Tugging hard at a few broken boxes, Tugger uncovered a torn brown bag with four paws (one of them missing) and a round head with something like ears on top. It was in bad shape, but he hadn't supposed it would be otherwise. Grinning, he set off for the theatre, to repair the damage as best he could.  
  
"Sonny, hey, sonny, wake up…"  
  
"Hugh?"  
  
Since he was not an early morning person, it could hardly have been possible for Tugger to give any intelligible remark when he was woken at the break of dawn. Gus only smiled, nudging him, "You were up late, sewing - and didn't I see you - kept my eyes on you all through 'Macbeth' you know. Never even looked up when the witches came on, and damn good those human queens were playing them too!"  
  
"But I finished!" Tugger chimed in, proudly displaying the product of his labour.  
  
Gus didn't have the heart to tell him that the teddy bear (he knew about human customs of course) looked worse than before. It was not so much that the missing paw had been substituted by a bright blue one or that one eye was a huge square green button while the other was round and red and shimmering golden. Nor was it the fact that the ribbon around the toy's neck was a garish yellow with black dots.  
  
But Tugger didn't really have a hand for sewing or stitching (the pricks on his paw pads could attest to that - as well as the curses and quiet 'ouches' that had come from the young tom all of the previous evening); the teddy was criss-crossed with black, blue, green, red and, from time to time, bright yellow threads holding him together.  
  
It looked as if it had come straight from a human horror movie about deadly playthings. Forcing a smile and succeeding brilliantly due to his acting training, Gus patted Tugger's shoulder with fatherly pride, congratulating him on a job well done.  
  
"I gotta go - it's Quaxo's birthday, don't wanna be late!"  
  
"Ah, sonny, why don't you have a look in that mirror and straighten yourself up first? I brought you some breakfast; I'll wrap your present up while you're eating, alright?"  
  
"Gus, you're…"  
  
"…a sport, I know," the elder tom finished with a smile and gently took the 'teddy'. As he wrapped it up into some semblance of a pretty parcel, he couldn't help but think that it was a sweet idea - he would have to tell Jelly all about it of course - and Jenny. Who would have thought that Tugger of all the young ones was so kind and thoughtful when it came to the little kitten?  
  
Coming back to his den, Tugger noticed the quiet at once, raising a questioning brow at Munkustrap.  
  
"Is he still asleep?"  
  
"No, but Jenny promised she'd make a birthday breakfast of sorts for him and so I brought him over to Skimble's place."  
  
"Skimble?"  
  
"Jenny's finally moved in with him. I thought you'd be the one to know all the latest gossip."  
  
"Must've passed me by…anyway - look!"  
  
Proudly displaying the bundle he had held in his arms, Tugger waved it in front of the tabby's eyes.  
  
"And what's that?"  
  
"Quaxo's present, what else?"  
  
"What'd you get him?"  
  
Pausing a moment for dramatic effect, the lanky tom grinned, "A teddy bear!"  
  
"Drat, I knew you'd come up with something cool. I got him a blanket."  
  
"Colour?"  
  
"Blue with silver threads. I nicked it from a shop."  
  
Tugger's eyes widened. Munkustrap was apparently very ill at ease as he continued,  
"Don't tell father, kay? It's not as if I _really_ stole it… The human I sometimes visit put it out for me to sleep on - I just…"  
  
"Quax will love it." Nudging the tabby, the lanky tom grinned, "When will he be back?"  
  
"Around ten I guess. Skimble's dropping him off."  
  
"Did you tell anyone else it's Quaxo's first birthday, well, sort of?"  
  
"I asked Jenny and Skimble to spread the word. And Dad dropped by last night and brought a black bow tie."  
  
Munkustrap was clearly not impressed by that present as he held it up for Tugger to see.  
  
"Whatever's that thing for?"  
  
"Humans…dressing up I suppose. I didn't want to ask. Quaxo seemed to like it even though he has no use for it right now. Dad said he would find it better suited than a collar in his future career."  
  
"Riddle thy name is Deuteronomy."  
  
Munkustrap laughed, "Gus would be delighted to hear you using Shakespearian language."  
  
"I spent last night at the theatre, sewing the bear up - guess 'Macbeth' rubbed off on me."  
  
"Well, shall we put our presents on Quaxo's bed then?"  
  
"Yeah, can't wait to see his face…"  
  
The two toms didn't have to wait too long for the kitten to return. His eyes were glowing and he was smiling brightly, having been given a ribbon with a bell on it to hang up at home.  
  
Both Skimble and Jenny had felt that it would be a nice gesture to give him something and had decided upon a little token of goodwill so as not to make Alonzo jealous who was, owing to the fact that his father had sent no letter with his gift, a little touchy on the subject of birthdays.  
  
"It's so bright!"  
  
Munkustrap's face was distorted in a gentle smile, but his tail twitched against Tugger's leg - he wasn't too fond of the sound of bells, that high, clear tinkling got on his nerves. Since Quaxo was so delighted, he suppressed the feeling of unease - to his brother's infinite amusement.  
  
"Quax, why don't you have a look over there," the lanky tom finally said, indicating the two presents, and nudging the tabby good-naturedly when he sighed contentedly.  
  
The kitten laid his new bell away at once and trotted towards the bed, grinning up at the brothers. "For me?"  
  
"Of course!" Munkustrap intoned quietly, while Tugger added, indicating the blue blanket that his brother had not wrapped (the tabby did believe he was hopelessly unskilled when it came to doing things of that sort), "That's from Munku."  
  
"Wow!"  
  
Quaxo had already flung himself at the cloth, rolling about until he was totally tangled in it with only a white paw and his head protruding. He laughed happily and gave a credible impression of an avalanche rushing down the bed until he bumped into Tugger's parcel.  
  
Munkustrap carefully untangled the kitten so he could open the next present and was hugged tightly. Nuzzling Quaxo's ears softly, he pushed him away, smiling, "Open up Tug's present now."  
  
The tabby was called upon to help out now and then, for Gus had done an excellent job on the wrapping, not thinking that it would be a small cat who'd open the whole thing. Finally, the 'teddy from hell' as the theatre cat had dubbed the toy behind Tugger's back, fell to the floor.  
  
Munkustrap had to bite back a grin, knowing full well that his brother had slaved to make it look that way, no matter how awful it had come out. The kitten was, in the meantime, staring open mouthed at the toy, finally asking in an awed whisper, "What's that?"  
  
"A teddy bear," Tugger explained, proudly pushing his chest out.  
  
"Human kittens play with them; they are like friends; you can tell them secrets and they'll always be there."  
  
Grinning at the tabby, the lanky tom nodded, not in the least surprised that Munkustrap should have guessed his reason for selecting the present.  
  
"Does he have a name?"  
  
"Not yet, you'll have to give him one."  
  
The kitten's eyes brightened and he chuckled as he took the teddy and hugged it close, trotting towards Tugger and rubbing against his side, purring, "I'll call him Rummy!"  
  
The lanky tom groaned, mussing Quaxo's head fur while Munkustrap laughed aloud, "You'll never get rid of that name, Tug!"  
  
Precisely on the first day of summer, Jenny had her second litter, which she named herself - as Skimbleshanks had promised she could do. Carbucketty and Jemima were exactly a day older than Jellylorum's kittens.  
  
To the surprise of most of the junkyard, she had taken up with the James' Street cat, who was now a proud father. To help out with his offspring, he took Victoria, one of the little queens, to live with him and his humans. Etcetera stayed at the 'yard with her mother.  
  
And soon after this, in early July, Cassandra turned up, with Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer in tow. Her father Ghenghis had decided to journey the country and the humans had then thought it necessary to shut their other purebred Siamese in the house so she wouldn't be 'lost' as well.  
  
Which had excessively offended the young queen, of course. The two calico kittens that she had - almost - grown-up with, were now temporarily in the care of her former humans' neighbours. Deuteronomy had, however, insisted they stay at the yard as often as possible, so all the tribe's kittens could play with each other.  
  
Still, Mungo and Rumple didn't often join in the games, and Cassandra confided to Tantomile - her new best friend - that she was in no way happy about their 'connections' back in Victoria Grove.  
  
"Though I can't do anything as long as they do not get into trouble. You know how it is. Kittens!"  
  
Coricopat, lying in the sun beside them, had grunted his approval. At least one sensible queen. Apart from his twin, of course.  
  
"We're having a writing competition!"  
  
Victor looked very pleased with himself, whereas Admetus just sighed in exasperation. Though both of them had been taught their letters, only one of them thought using them was fun.  
  
Quaxo looked at the elder toms, slipping a little further away, almost unnoticed - until he bumped into Alonzo, who grinned at him just as Carby and Billy loudly exclaimed they wanted to enter the competition too.  
  
The white and black tom laughed, chiming in,  
"What's the prize?"  
  
"Jelly made a lovely red quilted blanket…"  
  
"She said it was too nice to just give away so we have to earn it," Admetus finished for Victor, his voice soft and warm as usual.  
  
"Alright, I'm in."  
  
"Me too!"  
  
"Yep!"  
  
Quaxo cringed, drawing further into himself. Apart from his kittenish stammering over longer words, he still hadn't learned how to write properly. The only thing he could spell was his name and even that was a barely legible scrawl.  
  
"What about you, Quax?" Alonzo nudged him good-naturedly and the other toms fell silent, waiting for his answer.  
  
"Got no ideas," the black kitten murmured dejectedly, adding a little too quickly, "Gotta go now, see you!"  
  
He raced off, angry at himself and even more at Tugger. Munkustrap had, since he had no time to spare at all of late, decided that the heartthrob was to educate Quaxo properly. The elder tom had taken that seriously, written out the alphabet on a nice sheet of paper and left it for his charge to study.  
  
The sheet was crumpled and worn by now, and hours had been spent by large dark eyes pouring over its contents, for all that it hadn't helped him since even practicing the letters didn't bring an understanding of what they meant.  
  
He had never thought it mattered much, yet now he saw that the other kittens were actually good enough at writing to produce something decent and legible, it changed matters. They could put their thoughts on paper - and his name didn't sound exactly like the thing to hand in to a competition, even if he were to manage making it look elegant and proper.  
  
As he sat moping in the twilight, waiting for Tugger to appear and, hopefully, having him notice his charge was downcast and needed help, someone knocked softly on the door and entered almost at once. It was Electra and she was smiling brightly at him.  
  
He didn't spend a lot of time with her, queen kits were such a bore after all, but Munkustrap liked her and he mentioned her fairly often. Being an avid fan of Gus', she was seen at the theatre a lot and the tabby always escorted her there when he could, sending Admetus when he was too busy.  
  
Electra was, for all her supposedly being thoughtful and quiet, a chatterbox in the extreme. And Quaxo happened to be one of those unfortunate enough to encounter her now and then when Munkustrap dropped by for a word with Tugger after picking her up.  
  
The young queen obviously didn't notice her companion's black mood, for she flopped down at his side with a little huff and started talking almost at once,  
  
"Munku sent me - he heard about the competition and that you didn't want to enter and he said that you had so many fun stories to tell that you really should consider and then he said that if you didn't want to I was to tell you that you'd enjoy it cause it was something that you weren't doing every day and…"  
  
She paused to draw a breath and the little tom said, very quickly and quietly, into her short pause, "I don't want to write."  
  
"But you should, really, as I said Munku told me to tell you that…"  
  
"I can't write."  
  
He knew it would come out eventually. If Electra didn't split on him then someone else would - he'd have to face the other kittens some time, his refusal to participate would be talked of as it was. The dark queen opened her mouth and shut it again, as if for once lost for words.  
  
"Tugger wrote the al-pha-bet down for me and I know it, but I don't understand it." He hated himself for stumbling across yet another word. He was too old for this.  
  
"Ask him to explain!"  
  
It was the obvious answer, but one that didn't work for him. He was embarrassed to acknowledge that he was too stupid to figure it out on his own. But he wouldn't tell his companion that.  
  
"Or Munku can help, I'm sure he would, after all he wants you to enter that competition and then it would be so much fun for you and he would want you to have fun, he always wants everyone to have fun if they can, even though he always says to be careful and…"  
  
She stopped abruptly when she noticed that the black tom still hadn't shown any sign of brightening up.  
  
"You don't want to ask?"  
  
"Munku doesn't have time and Tugger…"  
  
Pondering a moment, the face in front of him suddenly sported a radiant smile,  
  
"Well, then I'll teach you! It's not hard, really. I didn't learn it from Jelly myself, cause she was so busy, but she's keeping house for Gus and she took me with her and he said he wanted to do something for her so he showed me the letters and he's got loads of plays that he read out to me and then he taught me how to read them myself and now that I…"  
  
Another pause to catch her breath, but she didn't ramble on this time, just stared at the little tom, "I can't promise I'm good at it, but I'd like to help."  
  
It was probably the nicest - and shortest - thing she had ever said to him. Quaxo looked up, smiling slowly as he nodded, "If you would…"  
  
"Sure! Now where's that paper Tugger gave you - if you already know how the letters work we'll just have to make sure you know what they mean…and then we'll go over to Gus' place and borrow one of his plays and he'll tell us all about it before we even start reading, but that's the fun you know, cause it's so much easier to concentrate on the difficult words if you're not afraid of not knowing what's going to happen and…"  
  
Quaxo's face relaxed into a pleased grin as he drowned out her words, fetching the sheet of paper. He'd just have to make sure he tuned in to her again when she said something of consequence. And for all that she was a queen, she was really quite nice.  
  
"You don't have to be nervous."  
  
"I'm not." Which was a lie, of course, but then this would be his first time reading aloud. And to an elder! Electra had taught him to work with his letters yesterday, yet he wasn't at all confident enough to take on a play. But she hadn't listened to his protests and simply dragged him off to see Gus, all the while chattering about some writer or other he'd never heard of.  
  
His head was swimming. No wonder she was such an excellent kittensitter. That incessant talking would put anyone into a stupor or to sleep. And the younger the cats, the better. They tried to follow her stories and found it so hard they just nodded off.  
  
"Quaxo!"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Oh, never mind. We're there." He tried to push off her paw when she brushed across his head, then his shoulders, smoothing his fur. Now he felt like a baby kitten. Thank you very much. But of course Electra didn't realize that. She smiled, pulling him inside the old building.  
  
"Gus! It's me, El, and I've brought Quaxo!" Her voice echoed loudly and he wondered if it was necessary to shout quite as much.  
  
"Oh yes, dear. There you are, so nice of you to drop by."  
  
The elder tom smiled at them.  
  
"Gus, can you help us? Quaxo's not been getting a lot of practice reading and he'd so love to enter that writing competition - I'm sure Jelly told you about it, didn't she? And well, if he can't read properly, then he can't write well, and he does have to do well, cause he wants to win; you see Munku thinks he's marvellous and I'm sure he is, it's just that he doesn't have practice and all, so I thought you could go over some plays with him, like you did with me and then he can learn and…"  
  
Quaxo had to hand it to Gus, the old tom was clever. The moment Electra took a breath, he put his paw over her mouth and smiled, "I understand you, dear. Now, why don't you sit down over there, both of you, and let me get something nice to read?"  
  
The little queen nodded, quiet for once. Quaxo noticed she was blushing slightly, the tip of her nose was a little redder than usually. He didn't have the chance to say anything though, because she pulled him to sit with her, gazing worshipfully ahead. The elder tom apparently hadn't gone far to retrieve the play he'd been looking for.  
  
"There we are, kits. 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' - it's a lovely piece, isn't it Electra?"  
  
"Oh yes!"  
  
"Well then, Quaxo, you will be Oberon and Electra Titania," the little queen beamed and her companion just looked confused, "they are two characters - roles - and it's not too long a scene. Here you go. I know it by heart, so I can help you out if you get stuck."  
  
Gus handed the book to Electra, who opened it across her and Quaxo's laps. "It's 'Ill met…', right here." A slim, dark paw pointed to his sentence and the young tom sighed. There now, he'd make a complete fool of himself.  
  
"Ill met by mo-oon-li-ght, pr-ou-oud T-t-it-tan-nia." (1)  
  
"What, jealous Oberon? Fairy, skip hence.  
I have forsworn his bed and company."  
  
Quaxo blushed, Gus laughed and Electra looked up, then back at the text and coughed, moving a little further away from her companion.  
  
"Right, no need to worry there, continue."  
  
"T-ta-r-ry, rash wa-nto-ton! Am not I th-thy lo-rd?"  
  
"There now, see! You're doing very well, Quaxo. Now lean back and listen to Electra. She's a feisty little thing, you know."  
  
If possible, Electra looked more uncomfortable, but she turned her eyes back to the text and continued,  
"Then I must be thy lady. But I know  
When thou hast stolen away from Fairy- Fairyland  
And in the shape of Co-Corin sat all day  
Playing on pipes of corn, and versing love  
To amou-mourous Phil-lida. Why art thou here  
Come from the fastest…"  
  
"Farthest." Gus was smiling and Quaxo relaxed somewhat, suddenly understanding why he had been told to listen. Electra wasn't perfect in her reading either, she was stumbling over new or hard words. He didn't feel as stupid now.  
  
"…from the farthest step of India  
But that, forsooth, the bouncing Ama-zon,  
Your bus-skined mis…"  
  
The little queen's voice trailed off and she muttered something under her breath. The theatre tom simply chuckled. "Well, Quaxo, why don't you take up now?"  
  
Following Electra's paw, he did, wondering what this was about. But then he supposed that his companion actually knew what those words meant. It was a little beyond him, really.  
  
"How can-nst thou thus, for sha-me, Tit-ania,  
Glan-ce at my credit with Hip…"  
  
"Hippolyta."  
  
"…Hipolitia…"  
  
"Hippolyta."  
  
"…Hip-olita…"  
  
"Close enough Quaxo, continue."  
  
The young tom sighed, but did as he was told. After he and Electra had finished with the scene, Gus told them the story of the play. Quaxo soon began to understand that his companion had blushed at sexual references. If the theatre tom hadn't explained them, he was sure he'd not have caught them at all.  
  
Walking home with Electra in the dusk, he saw her smile happily, staring ahead.  
  
"You like those plays, don't you?"  
  
"Yes, I do. And I love Gus. He's always so patient, and he explains everything so well."  
  
She fell silent then, and he grinned. She really wasn't too bad.  
  
Quaxo and Electra spent the following two days with Gus, reading scenes from 'Twelfth Night', 'Much Ado About Nothing' and 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. As a special treat, the young tom heard a stunning recitation of Marc Anthony's speech from 'Julius Caesar', the theatre tom standing - a little unsteadily - on an overturned box, a piece of cloth wrapped around him like a Roman toga.  
  
Electra was ecstatic afterwards, not that he could blame her. When they walked home on the second evening, she stated, "You'll have to hand in your entry the day after tomorrow. I asked Jelly."  
  
"I don't know if I can."  
  
"Write? Of course! Gus made you copy a whole scene from 'Twelfth Night' and you wrote it out perfectly!"  
  
"That's not the same."  
  
"It is! Only that now the words are coming from your head instead of from the book beside you. I know you can do it. Just don't use anything too complicated." She winked and nudged him gently.  
  
"I don't know what to write about."  
  
"Oh come on! Munkus said you had loads of stories to tell. Just pick one."  
  
Quaxo nodded, not wanting to tell her that all the events he could tell about were very personal. He didn't like to put so much of his feelings on display, especially when his grasp of language wasn't very good. It wouldn't look well.  
  
Suddenly, an idea occurred to him and he grinned. Electra glanced at him and laughed, "I see you've got an idea." He just nodded.  
  
"Now, Jelly, my dear, have you received all entries?"  
  
"Yes, there are a few lovely stories. But, you know…here."  
  
She held a piece of paper out to him with a smile, "It's not the winning story, you'll see the amount of mistakes, but I'm sure you'll like it. But don't tell anyone I showed you - I promised the kittens not to let anyone read their little masterpieces."  
  
_much adO about Nothin  
by Quaxo  
Guss told me this. two Quens are in love. One is  
veri badtemperd. the tomss the lyke are offices.  
One is young and stuppid. He think his bryde  
Is with a new tom. That iis plottet by his enemi…_  
  
Jelly chuckled as Gus' eyes grew bigger. Suddenly he looked at her and shook his head, "I still have a lot to teach that one. But I tell you, my dear, next time he'll do much better!"  
  
Quaxo wasn't surprised to find that Victor had won the blanket. Admetus hadn't participated, Alonzo's story hadn't been concise, Billy and Carby were too young, and his own, well, he knew he'd messed up even as he put it to paper.  
  
Electra, however, didn't even mention it; she just waited patiently for him each morning to go and see Gus with him. The theatre cat always asked him to write a little story while the young queen practiced a monologue or chatted away, which was corrected quickly before he went home.  
  
Deuteronomy sighed as he trundled along the street. He should have asked Munkustrap to bring the kitten to him. He was too old to run about like this. On entering the 'yard, he was greeted by Tantomile and Coricopat, who melted into his shadow unobtrusively.  
  
"It is time, then?" one of them asked.  
  
The shaggy grey tom nodded gravely. It was indeed time to let Quaxo know he was not quite an ordinary kitten. For a moment he considered letting Munkustrap do it, but then thought better of it. His son would probably have a fit anyway. Actually, make that his _sons_. Tugger was going to be furious to have his little charge exposed to such a horrid truth.  
  
Not that it was all bad, but that tom exaggerated everything. Like his mother. Deuteronomy sighed again. The kittens were all playing at the foot of the tire. Coricopat brushed past the old tom, stalking into the group with a face that had the little ones scattering. Only Victor, Admetus, Quaxo and Electra were brave enough not to cower.  
  
"Can I help you?" the tribe's kittensitter stood half in front of his charges, even though he looked more than a little uncomfortable.  
  
"Old Deuteronomy wants to talk to Quaxo."  
  
"You're rude!" Billy, hiding behind Electra, shuddered at her daring.  
  
"Thank you so much for pointing that out, kit. Come now, Quaxo." Coricopat gave one of his patented 'killer-looks', though the little queen didn't seem to be sufficiently intimidated. Instead, she had the audacity to stick her tongue out at him. He growled, Billy shivered. Well, at least one kitten who knew how to react to his presence.  
  
Quaxo whispered something to Victor which sent him into a giggling fit and walked off obediently with Coricopat - not without holding up his nose and exaggeratingly trampling like the elder tom.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mungo and Rumple laughing, squashed into the small pipe near the tire with the rest of the younger kittens who had fled from the mystic twin's wrath.  
  
"My dear Quaxo. Now is the time you will discover the extent of your calling and…"  
  
The young tom stared at his elder with rapt attention though he was plainly confused. Coricopat was still sulking about Electra's exasperating lack of fear, so Tantomile took it upon herself to save the day.  
  
"Deuteronomy, may I have a word with Quaxo?"  
  
The shaggy tom, interrupted in the midst of his carefully planned speech, looked none too pleased, but he had never been able to resist a pretty queen when she was batting her eyelashes at him. At least that was what it looked like. Even if such behaviour didn't quite fit in with the usually reserved and proper Tantomile he knew.  
  
Shaking his head, he put his arm around Coricopat's shoulder, "Well, shall we take a little walk then to leave these two to their privacy?"  
  
The male twin shot his sister a charming 'you're-dead-when-I-get-my-paws-on-you' look before he was dragged away. Quaxo smiled, addressing the young queen,  
"So what is it Deut-erono-my was trying to tell me?"  
  
"In short: you are a magic cat."  
  
The little tom's jaw dropped, his eyes suddenly huge. Tantomile grinned happily. She loved clearing up confusion; especially when she had caused it.  
  
"See, Quaxo, you are one of those cats who have special powers. I don't know what yours will be, and I don't know when you will discover them. We are only telling you now so you know. You can come to me or Cori or Deuteronomy if something unusual happens."  
  
"Does…does anyone know?"  
  
"Munkustrap and Tugger. No one else."  
  
"But they…they didn't say anything."  
  
"Deuteronomy asked them not to. He felt you were not ready for such news."  
  
"But what will happen?"  
  
Tantomile sighed, "I don't know. I wish I could help with this."  
  
"I'm still a kitten, aren't I?" Quaxo's voice was trembling and he was fighting tears. That wasn't supposed to happen! He didn't want to be magical. He just wanted to be Quaxo…  
  
"Have you told him?"  
  
Tantomile, for all her powers of foresight, almost jumped out of her skin. Whirling around, she found herself nose to chest with Tugger, who had bent over her with a look on his face that was unmatched by any frown or scowl her twin had ever produced; and that was saying something.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Fine. I'll take it from here."  
  
"But…"  
  
The lanky tom ignored her, already hugging Quaxo close to his chest and striding off with the kitten before she could say another word. Tantomile hissed after him. Oh the nerve! That tom was beyond her. If his backside hadn't been so nice, she would have seriously considered being angry…  
  
"Munk."  
  
The tabby raised his head, irritated at having his conversation with Skimble so rudely interrupted. However, the moment he caught sight of his brother and Quaxo's trembling form, he excused himself and followed the two of them home.  
  
Once inside Tugger's dwelling, the kitten having been laid on the bed, with both elder toms curling around him and purring, Munkustrap asked what had happened.  
  
"Father made Tantomile tell him."  
  
Quaxo would have liked to point out that the queen had only explained what was going on to him, but he didn't think he could produce any intelligible words. He was still sniffling, with a stifled sob escaping his throat now and then.  
  
"Quax, look at us, there. Do you know what it means to be a magic cat?"  
  
"Munk! You're scaring him!"  
  
"Shut up, Tug."  
  
The kitten shook his head, fresh tears running down his pale cheeks. He began to tremble.  
  
"Listen, Quax. Being magical doesn't change who you are. Or that we love you. It just means that you will be able to do …special things."  
  
"Special?"  
  
"Yes. Every cat has a gift, every cat is unique and different. Deuteronomy, for example, has the ability to lead the tribe, Gus is a talented actor, Tugger is intelligent and good-looking."  
  
Quaxo smiled, especially when he saw the lanky tom's slight blush at the soft words, uttered as they were, with Munkustrap's usual conviction.  
  
"You don't have to be frightened, Quax, cause you're not alone. Okay?"  
  
The kitten nodded, rubbing his head against the tabby's chest. The elder tom got to his paws then, murmuring something along the lines of having a conversation to continue and slipped out into the 'yard.  
  
"Do you think I'll be able to make things disappear?"  
  
Tugger shook his head softly, looking at Quaxo, "I don't know. But it'll be fun finding out, won't it?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
Grinning brightly, the young tom snuggled close, yawning.  
  
"You need a nap." It was a statement, but Tugger took the time to lick the white-tipped ears softly and purr until his charge was asleep. For all that he didn't like the turn of events at all, he had to agree with Munkustrap - he would always love Quaxo, no matter how strange and magical he was.  
  
The End.  
  
(1) "A Midsummer Night's Dream", William Shakespeare, Act II, scene I (from 'The New Penguin Shakespeare')  



End file.
